


Kid

by Just_say_love



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Amputation, Amputee Peter Parker, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Avengers Family, Healing, Heavy Angst, Hurt Peter, Hurt Peter Parker, Kid Peter Parker, Kidnapped Peter, Kidnapped Peter Parker, Mental Health Issues, Parent Pepper Potts, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Protective Avengers, Protective Tony Stark, References to Depression, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2019-05-03 18:21:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 20,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14574867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_say_love/pseuds/Just_say_love
Summary: Set mid-Spiderman: Homecoming, where Peter is kidnapped for ransom and Tony has to get him back.FYI: This was very loosely edited, so there may be mistakes.





	1. Chapter 1

It was a classic mistake really. Peter really should have expected retribution from the ferry, but hindsight was 20/20. All he could think as he was thrown into the back of the van was that it was a good thing Ned had to stay at school for tutoring.

His neck throbbed where the dart had hit him, but the sedative wore off quickly. Obviously whoever this was did not know about his increased metabolism and healing ability. Slowly, Peter squinted his eyes, scanning the back of the van until his gaze settled on two men locked in a deep conversation near the partition. 

“We don’t want Stark on our trail.”

“We’ll be careful. He doesn’t have any tech on him anyways, I checked.”

“How long till he wakes up?”

Then, the van hit a speed bump, and Peter wasn’t able to stifle the yelp of surprise as his body slammed against the back door. 

“Well then, look who’s decided to join us.”

Peter fully opened his eyes, his spider senses hitting him full force. The two men were complete opposites. One was a short, bald, pudgy looking man, with a sneer that looked as though it was pasted on. The other was tall and lanky, with long, greasy blonde hair. Both wore denim work uniforms, and heavy work boots. 

“Oh hey,” Peter started, “Didn’t know Forever 21 was selling full on onesies now. Wonder where I can get…”

He was cut off by a swift slap across the face by the blonde man. 

“Shut up, kid,” he spat, and Peter fell silent. 

Mr. Stark called him that. Kid. Peter knew often he used as a derogatory term, but somehow it struck a nerve deep within him. He lost his dad, and then his uncle. Tony was all he had left, and when he called Peter ‘kid’ he started to feel as though he had someone. Sure, Aunt May was a huge part of his life, but something was always missing. And around Tony, well, he felt complete, like he had everything he needed.

Hearing this man, who’d drugged and thrown him into a van call him a name he treasured, something snapped. 

He let out a growl, and thrashed around wildly. The bindings around his body were simple rope, and in a moment of pure anger he yanked his limbs apart, and they snapped. He lunged forward, crashing into the man, and wrestling him down to the floor, landing punch after punch after punch until a searing pain rocked through his ankle. He fell backwards, and looked up at the shorter man pointing a gun at him, as blood poured from his right ankle.

“That should teach you to calm down,” Pudgy snarled. 

Peter rocked back and forth, trying and failing to hide his short, gasping breaths.. 

Paralyzed by the pain, he just sat there as the man he dubbed Greasy bound his hands and feet, this time with harsh metal cuffs, and placed a dirty rag in his mouth. 

“Now,” Pudgy continued, “As you are awake, we may as well discuss the proceedings for the day, well, days to come.”

Peter’s mind raced. If they were telling him this, they must be either stupid, or completely confident in their plan. He just hoped it was the former. 

“You may not recognize us, but you may just know our boss. He’s a real nice guy, goes by the name Vulture?”

The crazy eagle thing. Crap, those weapons he had were powerful. Now Peter started to minorly panic as Greasy kept on talking. 

“Boss said he wanted you dead, but we figured we’d get a little cash out of it too. Solid three million from your friend Mr. Stark. That makes a million for me, him, and her,” he said gesturing to the partition, where another person must’ve been driving the van. Anyways why don’t we start now, hmm?” 

He gestured up to Greasy who reached up into the top corner and flipped on a camera Peter had failed to notice. The red light started blinking, and Peter’s stomach dropped. 

Greasy turned to the camera and Pudgy walked around to where Peter was still sprawled on the floor. He reached under Peter’s arms and hauled him to his feet, though he could put no weight whatsoever on his right leg. Fortunately, the bullet wound had stopped bleeding, and looked as though it’d passed straight through. Unfortunately, though Peter was no doctor, he could tell it hit something important, and he knew even with his rapid healing he’d have some trouble with this one. 

So he stood shakily, trying not to lean into the disgusting man holding him up, but also not wanting Mr. Stark to see his inability to function. He couldn’t give these people what they wanted, especially if it meant more of those weapons could be built. 

“Well hello Tony,” Greasy crooned, “I’ll keep this short and sweet, yeah? Recognize your little spider without his fancy costume?”

Peter tried his best to keep his breathing level, as to minimize the intended effect of the video. 

“Hey Spidey, what do you want to say to Mr. Stark?” Pudgy asked him, running a dagger along his neck. “Want to ask him to save you? Want to tell him how much it hurts? How hard this is for you?

Peter looked up, careful of the blade pressing into his skin.

“Uh, hey Mr. Stark… Wanna hear a new Star Wars theory?”

Pudgy’s face turned bright red, and he growled. 

“Watch your mouth,” he warned, gripping him tighter around the arms. 

Peter could practically feel the blood vessels popping, forming bruises. The mans breath was hot on his face, and Peter had to stop himself from gagging. 

“Ugh. Get a breath mint,” he mumbled. 

Pudgy’s eyes grew wild with fury, and he swept his foot underneath Peter’s good leg, and he crumpled to the ground, a scream of pain escaping his lips as his bloody ankle re-twisted underneath him.

As he lay on the ground, Pudgy began kicking him repeatedly in the stomach, his boots making a horrible crunching sound as they met his ribs. As Peter tried to stop himself from moaning, he only caught snippets of what the blonde haired man was saying to the camera.

“Can imagine… stop this… simple, really… three million… in cash… leave at… warehouse...harm no one… we won’t kill him… new video… hourly… hope we don’t.. Soon.”

The blinking red-light went off, and immediately, Peter rolled over, groaning and panting in pain. 

The two men loomed over him, exchanging wary glances.

“Hah,” Greasy laughed, “You’re trying to be strong for him, eh? We’ll see how long that lasts.”

Tony’s POV

“Come on Pep, we’ll be late,” Tony called down the hallway, straightening his tie. 

“I’m coming!” she shouted from her bathroom. 

Tony gave himself the once-over, and decided he looked presentable. It was just the press anyways, and quite frankly, they’d be plenty entertained with the whole ferry thing to even care if his suit was appropriate for the season. 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y, how many people are waiting outside?” he asked his suits AI. 

“Approximately two hundred and twenty eight people are gathered outside,” came the smooth mechanical voice.

Tony exhaled and looked down at his watch. 

“Pepper, come on!” he said, clearly frustrated. 

The bathroom door swung open and Pepper walked out in a modest black dress, carefully putting in silvery earrings as she walked towards him.

“How do I look?” she asked.

Tony stopped and stared at her.

“Beautiful. Just like always.”

As they waited in the elevator, F.R.I.D.A.Y spoke through the speakers. 

“Sir, you have a new email from an unknown source. There is a video attatched. It is titled, ‘Peter Parker/Spiderman’.”

Pepper looked at Tony in alarm. 

“Is that the kid you’ve been mentoring?” she asked, her eyes wide. 

Tony felt his heart rate spike. “F.R.I.D.A.Y track Spiderman’s suit.”

There was a pause before the AI spoke again. 

“You confiscated Spiderman’s suit, sir.”

Tony pushed the up button, changing the elevators direction with a touch of his finger print. 

“Tony?” Pepper asked, “What is going on?”

He ignored her, and half ran over to his TV. 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y, play the video,” he said, his voice shaky and high.

The screen illuminated, and the face of a young, scared boy met Tony’s eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony watches the video, and poor Peter is forced to make another one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a short one, but for those who haven't read any of my other works, I just write short chapters. Oh well. I have finals coming up, so this is what I could do for know. Enjoy!

Tony’s POV

The video quality was terrible, especially considering they were in a moving van, but there was no mistaking the chocolate brown eyes and mess of curls that defined Peter’s young face.

Pepper gasped next to him, her hand flying to cover her mouth. She reached over to out a hand on Tony’s arm, but he moved away, striding towards the screen. 

Immediately he scanned the boys body, drawing in his breath as he noticed Peter’s ankle. Even with his advanced healing, it needed immediate medical attention. Blood still dripped down, and he could faintly see where his super-human skin had begun to heal what appeared to be a bullet hole.

Other than that, from what Tony could see he just looked a little banged up, with a few bruises peeking out from behind his Table of Elements t-shirt. He was being held up by one man, and another stood in closer view of the camera. The latter began speaking, his voice staticy but audible. 

“Well hello Tony. I’ll keep this short and sweet, yeah? Recognize your little spider without his fancy costume?”

Tony’s blood boiled at the words. No one was supposed to know Peter’s identity. It was the best chance he had at protecting the kid, and somehow, that had become his main priority. To protect the stupid, heroic, nerdy, loving little boy. 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y, run facial recognition,” Tony murmured as he stepped closer to the screen. 

The AI’s voice ran through the speakers, much clearer than those from the video.

“Sir, my facial recognition software has identified three people. First, Peter Parker, A.K.A Spider-Man. Would you like more details?”

“No,” Tony said, eyes still focused on Peter’s face, “Just alert the police of what’s going on and get them on the case.”

“Okay, sir,” replied the smooth robotic voice. 

Tony continued watching the video in horror as the fatter man supporting Peter drew a knife from his back pocket and began to trace Peter’s collarbone with the blade. 

“Hey Spidey, what do you want to say to Mr. Stark? Want to ask him to save you? Want to tell him how much it hurts? How hard this is for you?” the fat man asked with an evil gleam in his eyes. 

‘Oh no,’ Tony though as the boy looked up, defiance blazing in his eyes. ‘Please do what they want, don’t say anything stupid. Please.”

“Hey Mr. Stark,” Peter started. 

Tony winced at the sheer sound of his voice, strained and hoarse. 

“Wanna hear a new Star Wars theory?”

Damn. The kid couldn’t watch his mouth for even one second. Tony thought briefly about where he was picking up that kind of cheek, but stopped as he realized it’d only be another thing to add to the list of things he could blame himself for. Right up there with taking the kids suit, letting him get kidnapped, and not listening to him in the first place. 

Just as he suspected, the man holding him up was not amused by his quip, and he tightened his grip on Peter, surely causing some bruising. 

He watched as Peter mumbled something under his breath, and Tony prayed that it wasn’t anything sarcastic or idiotic. 

Unfortunately, his quip earned him a swift kick to his bad ankle. As Peter twisted and fell, Tony heard Pepper gasp as if she was feeling his pain. 

“He’s a child,” she whispered, dumbstruck. 

Tony seemed to have lost the ability to speak, and he moved still closer to the screen, watching in absolute horror as Peter was kicked in the stomach too many times to count. Tony could tell through his labored breathing and the way his fists clenched through the bondage that he was trying to hold in screams. Tony had done that before, tried to be strong. He never wanted to cry in front of his father. Something deep inside him wanted Howard to be proud, to see that Tony was a man. 

Now, as Peter did the same for Tony, Tony felt an instinct kick in. He couldn’t quite place it, but it was there, rumbling in his gut. He was going to save Peter if it killed him. He’d bring the boy home and never let him out of his sight again. The kid would feel loved, and he’d feel safe.

The man with the long blonde hair began to speak again, and Tony hung onto every single word.

Now Mr. Stark, I can imagine you are wanting to stop this. The answer is simple, really. We would like three million dollars, in cash. Feel free to leave at the abandoned warehouse just outside city limits. If you harm no one, well we won’t kill him. I think I’ll send you a new video hourly, so for the sake of our own fun, I hope we don’t see you soon.”

At this, the video ended, with Peter still moaning in pain in the background. 

Tony turned slowly, and looked at Pepper, who had tears streaming down her face. 

He stared at her, and then nodded. 

“Call the team.”

Peter’s POV

Peter expected sleep to be peaceful. Maybe a short leave from the pain that accompanied him in his conscious mind. But instead of peace, he found only nightmares. The kind that woke him up in a cold sweat, leaving him out of breath, and exhausted. 

This time he saw May. She was lying on the floor of their little apartment, unconscious, cold, and still. She kept calling his name,

“Peter. Peter. Peter I can’t handle this anymore, Peter!”

Desperately he tried to reach her, but he was stuck. He couldn’t get to her, and he had to watch as the rise and fall of his aunt’s chest stopped. She was dead. 

When he awoke, it always took him a minute to remember that he was safe, and more importantly, that May was safe. 

However this time, it wasn’t the case. He awoke to being roughly pulled up, and this time seated on the bench in the back of the van. 

He looked up blearily to see the red blinking light of the camera flashing at him. He moaned, and gently let his head fall behind him with a bang, but he soon picked it back up, as the movement of the van repeatedly slammed his head into the cold metal wall.

“It’s been an hour,” Pudgy said, rubbing his hands together, “which means episode two of where is Mr. Stark!”

Peter groaned. 

“‘E’s comin’ “ Peter managed, his voice thick from sleep and pain. 

Greasy spoke up this time, “We’ll see about that. In the meantime, I say we start with making sure you can’t get away, hm?”

Peter put on a stoic face, and stared at the camera. Sure, Tony would probably yell at him for being reckless, but hey, whatever they planned to do to him they would do it no matter what. So slowly, Peter raised his head and looked at the camera.

“Mr. Stark,” he started.

The two captors looked at each other gleefully, as if expecting him to beg for mercy. 

Peter glanced at them and then whipped his head to the camera and all but screamed, 

“Mr. Stark don’t give them the money! They’ll use it to make weapons that’ll kill peop…”

Again, Peter’s words were interrupted by a scream of anguish he wasn’t able to contain. 

Pudgy had taken Peter’s leg in his hands, and swiftly snapped his arms apart, cracking the fibula. Before Peter could do or say anything, he continued up the leg, snapping the femur. He moved to other leg, and then up to his arms. 

Within minutes, Peter only lay whimpering, his form barely recognizable as that of a humans. 

Though sounds and sights merely swam through his brain, Peter was able to pick out what Greasy said into the camera before the red light ceased it’s blinking. 

“I’d give it a day. Hurry, Mr. Stark.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys the comments you left me absolutely made me cry. Those keep me going!!! Please please please continue to comment if you want me to continue, or what you liked/ didn't like in this chapter or the last. Lots of love! <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mostly Tony's POV, but a little for Peter at the end!

Tony’s POV  
Tony had been working non-stop, checking his watch every five minutes, dreading each tick of each hand, dreading another video. He scanned footage from all over New York, contacted the NYPD, and even had F.R.I.D.A.Y illegally tap some phone calls. With fifteen minutes left on the clock, still nothing. He decided to check police records from surrounding counties when he heard a soft voice at the door.

“Hey, Tony?” 

Tony kept his eyes on his screen as Pepper entered the room. 

“Are they here?” he asked. 

“Everyone but Steve. He just called though. On his way he stopped to check on a disturbance,” Pepper answered, her voice far too calm and far too sweet. 

He looked up.

“What kind of a disturbance?” he asked, suddenly alarmed.

“Pepper sat down in the chair across from Tony and took his hands in her. 

“I know this is really sudden, and I know you need to focus on finding Peter, but…”

Tony pulled away and continued typing on the computer, leaving Pepper with tears in her eyes. Tears he neglected to notice. 

“Pepper I can’t deal with anything else right now, if the other Avengers are here send them out to help. I want Bruce to work on creating an anaesthetic that’ll help Peter. Have Steve help him as their metabolisms are similar. Get Nat to patrol, keep an ear out for clues and all that. I want Vision with me too…”

“Tony!” Pepper yelled, “May Parker is dead!”

 

“What?” Tony whispered.

Pepper sniffled.

“May was killed. Steve found her dead in the apartment after he heard a blast from that direction. I’m sorry.”

Tony’s head spun. Here he was, assembling a group of people who spent the last months of their lives aggressively hating each other, to save a child who would come home to learn that his only remaining family, the woman who raised him, was dead. 

Pepper rubbed the small of Tony’s back in reassuring circles as he spiraled into an anxiety attack. Luckily, Pepper knew what to do, and was able to calm him down. She just had that effect on people. 

Tony felt his sadness morph into anger. He stood up, leaving Pepper alone, and marched to the living room where the Avengers had gathered. They stood huddled around Steve, who was speaking quickly in a hushed tone. Upon Tony’s entrance, they all looked up. Wanda ran across the room and hugged Tony tight, though the rest of the team simply stared. 

Slowly, ever so slowly, Tony walked towards Steve. The tension in the room was thick, and everyone could feel it as they all moved away to give Tony and Steve some space for whatever was about to happen. 

Tony glared ahead for a moment, but his gaze softened. 

He was a man with an intense guilt complex. One that suffocated his mind every night since he last saw Cap. He’d make up in a cold sweat, shaking and letting tears fall down his face. It was all his fault the Avengers broke up. It was his fault everyone was fighting. Everything that had gone wrong was his fault.

All he could do know was try to make amends. 

Slowly, Tony extended his arm to Steve, his hand shaking, but his expression steady. 

Steve took a step forwards, and skipped over the hand, wrapping his arms around Tony and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug, 

“I’m sorry,” Tony whispered. 

Steve stepped backwards. 

“Don’t be. I’m sorry about the lady. Pep said you knew her?” 

Tony coughed. “She’s the kids aunt.”

“What kid?” Clint asked, inserting himself in the conversation.

Tony gritted his teeth. He knew the others wouldn’t like this. 

“Spider-Man.”

Cap looked confused. “From Germany? He was a kid?”

“Well,” Tony started, “I mean, define kid.”

Natasha walked forward, a glare plastered on her face. 

“How old?”

“15.”

Slight chaos ensued. Clint began imagining his own children and had to sit down. Wanda began to cry, and she angrily shook Vision’s comforting hand from her shoulder. Natasha left the room. Steve looked at Tony, angry at the billionaire and himself at the same time. 

“I threw part of the airport at him! How could you endanger his life? Where is he? I want to apologize.”

Tony winced at the words. Partly because they were so true. 

Just then, F.R.I.D.A.Y’s voice came through the speakers. 

“Mr. Stark, you have a new email from an unknown source. There is a video attached. It is titled, “Hour Two.”

The room quieted as Tony had the AI show the video on the T.V. Peter’s face again filled the screen. 

Everyone turned to face the screen as a scene of absolute terror unfolded before him. 

Hearing Peter beg Tony to not give the money up pained them all, though only Tony really knew him well. 

“He’s gonna make it worse if he keeps on doing that,” Sam said, crossing his arms. 

“He knows that,” Tony murmured, “He’s trying to keep anyone else from getting hurt, and he knows more tech can be made with the three million they’re demanding.”

“He’s being tortured!” Wanda cried, “Why is he trying to hide his pain? I can see it in his face.”

“Peter doesn’t want me to think he’s in bad shape,” Tony said, clearly frustrated with the influx of questions.

Peter continued to cry that Tony couldn’t give the money, until the man with the dark hair moved towards him and put his hands on Peter’s leg. 

The curious thing was that Peter failed to notice, and he continued blubbering at the camera. 

“Something’s wrong,” Tony said immediately, “Peter has heightened senses.”

His fear was followed up by the sickening crunch of bones that could be heard over the sounds of the moving truck. 

A collective gasp flew around the room as the Avengers watched as he continued to break the bones of the young boy. 

Bruce looked completely aghast. 

“That was the femur, and Peter’s a superhuman, right?” he asked Tony. 

Tony nodded, stripped of his ability to speak. 

“That’s not normal,” Bruce whispered, shaking his head. “The femur is one of the strongest bones in the body, and Peter’s body must have incredible bone strength. No ordinary person can do that, not without…”

Bruce trailed off, and he practically fell onto the couch. 

Realization hit them like a ton of bricks. Getting Peter back wouldn’t be easy. Not when they’d be fighting a superhuman.

Peter’s POV

Soon after the second video ended, the van arrived at it’s location. The fact that they didn’t bother to blindfold Peter while dragging him down into the rundown farmhouse made him terrified for his future. Any good bad guy would want to keep the location as private as possible. 

They put him in a room that may have once been a sewing closet. It was big enough for two or three people to fit comfortably, but with no windows. 

The cuffs he were in were nothing special. Steel, maybe. But they weren’t necessary. Peter could barely move from the pain he was in. Every time he moved, something would be agitated, whether it was his torso, or his arms, or his legs. Even his head ached like never before. 

He sat for what felt like more than an hour, but Peter admitted to himself that his memory and perception wasn’t at it’s full potential. 

Finally, he heard noises from outside the heavy wooden door. Peter thought he could hear bolts and locks being slid out of place, but everything sounded muffled. 

Yet another thing to worry him. Sounds were usually so sharp and crisp in his mind. But he didn’t get much time to dwell on that particular issue because in walked Pudgy, along with a tall brunette woman who Peter assumed had been the one driving the van. 

Tears were falling down her face, and Peter realized that Pudgy had her arm clasped tightly in his hand. 

“You killed him! You killed him!” she was crying. Trying hopelessly to pull away from the man. 

Peter’s eyes darted back and forth quickly. 

“Leave her alone!” he yelled, though his head pounded in protest. 

Pudgy laughed, a strange looking machine from his pocket. 

Peter recognized the style immediately as the alien tech the Vulture had been behind. 

He realized what was going on ton late to shout a word of warning to the woman. Pudgy raised the weapon, and pulled the smooth black trigger. 

The woman’s mouth opened in a scream, but the words died on her lips. Her skin turned a sickly pink color, which morphed into a bluish hue before she fell to the ground, unmoving. 

Peter was now in full blown panic. She was dead. That thing killed her. 

Leaving the body, Peter’s captor turned in his heel and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starting to get a little weird! Please comment if you want more, because honestly, thats how I convince myself to write. Also, I'm thinking about making an insta for my fanfic so I can express some nerdiness without kids from my school knowing:) Thoughts??? Lots of Love! <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not that good at summaries, so lets just say that some stuff happens!!!

Peter’s POV

The dead woman reminded him of May. Her hair was done up the way May would do hers after a long day at work. A messy bun, or something like that. There was just something about her that reminded him of the woman lying cold on the floor in front of him.

Perhaps that was what upset him the most. Not that he couldn’t feel half his body, or that he was hungry, and cold, and tires, but the fact that he’d just watched someone die. 

The last time he’d experienced death, was with Uncle Ben. But in all reality, he’d blocked it out. May had sheltered him completely, and even on his crime-fighting patrols he hadn’t seen death. He stopped it.

The concept of being left in a room with a shell of what was once a person was utterly horrifying for 15 year old Peter, who still sat in his Table of Elements t-shirt; the face of innocence. 

His concept of time was horribly warped, even after less than three hours of captivity. 

It wasn’t until after Peter had fallen asleep yet again that Pudgy walked back into the room, holding what looked like a metal collar, and a trifold camera. 

The scrawny teenager raised his head to look forwards at the red blinking light, trying not to imagine what he must look like at this point. 

This time, it was only Pudgy speaking, confirming what Peter thought had happened. He’d killed his partners in crime.

“How are you, Mr. Stark?” Pudgy asked, feigning concern and that cotton-candy sweetness people gave to Peter after Ben’s death. The kind that made him want to throw up because of how fake it felt.

“So as you can see, it’s just me now. Why is not important, but…”

He was interrupted by a strangled sob from Peter. 

“He killed them!” Peter cried, “With alien tech! Don’t give him money Mr. Stark!”

Pudgy turned on his heel and stepped towards the young boy, clicking his tongue. 

 

“Now, now, when will we learn to hold our tongues? Is that yet another thing Mr. Stark failed to teach us?”

Peter’s eyes grew big and wild. No one talked about Mr. Stark that way. Summoning his strength, he spat at the back of the large mans head. 

Time froze. 

Peter panted, his throat suddenly yearning for water. Slowly, the man turned around, his face purple with anger. In one swift movement, he pulled apart the clasp on the collar, and snapped it around Peter’s neck. It dug into the soft skin of his neck.

“We will learn to watch our mouths, Peter,” he said, pulling a remote from his pocket. 

Peter tried desperately to control his breathing, but to no avail. 

The man pressed a button, and immediately, Peter felt his nerves burning, electricity coursing through his veins.

His mouth opened in a scream but he was unable to make a sound. He sat stock still as his muscles grew stiff and began to tear sloppily. 

White hot-light exploded in front of his eyes, and he began to spasm up and down in his chair. Any hope of retaining his calm for Mr. Stark was gone, and now all he wanted was safety and comfort. He wanted to look normal again. 

Peter took great pride in his appearance when it came to the billionaire. If he knew he’d see his mentor, or even Happy, he went to great lengths to make sure his outfit matched, his shoes were tied, and his curls were tamed. 

As he sat tied to a chair, however, he lost control. Certain already-broken limbs flailed hopelessly to the side, and he felt drool trickle from his mouth. He was completely helpless, paralyzed as his brain seemed to lose connection with his nerves. 

As suddenly as it had started, it stopped, and Peter slumped forwards in his chair, the energy drained from his body.

Peter desperately tried to stay awake to hear what the man was saying, but the darkness called him, and he obliged. 

Tony’s POV

Tony had forgotten how effective the Avengers were when they managed to all work together. Within fifteen minutes they had connected the dots and were able to start hashing out a plan. 

They figured May had been killed as a safety net. They must not have known she had absolutely no clue about Peter’s secret identity. Every time Tony thought about it he shuddered, knowing she only knew Peter as a lovable, clumsy teenager. She must have been so confused…

The more they uncovered about the alien weapons operation, the more Tony got angry at himself. The evidence was clear as day that something was going on, and he’d flat out ignored the insistent little kid, writing it all off as a desperate attempt to save something or show off. 

Though he wasn’t the best when it came to emotions, Tony could tell plain as day that Happy was feeling the same way. The way he carried himself now was slower, and without the dignity he treasured. He moped around the building, wringing his hands. 

Natasha seemed to be the one person who was unfazed by the fact that they were dealing with the safety of a child. Any other day for any other kid Tony would’ve been no-nonsense right along with her, but not when it came to Peter. 

The avengers sat huddled around in Tony’s lab, though it was far too crowded. Tony mostly just paced around, trying to think of something that would bring them closer to finding him. 

After Nat had returned from patroling the city, she’d returned with no other lead than Peter’s phone, the screen smashed. She sat on a hard plastic chair, rubbing her head, obviously deep in thought. 

Clint was on the phone, calling every police department within five hundred miles. 

Vision had also returned from about an hour long patrol, having found nothing and feeling immensely worried about the prospect of another video. 

Rhodey, Bruce, Sam, and Steve were all searching desperately through video footage, snapchats, texts, anything that could help them get a lead.

As they continued to search, F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice rang through the room. 

“Sir, you have a new em…”

“Play it,” Tony commanded. The screen lit up to reveal a much different scene. 

Peter was now bound to a chair, in a dark room. 

He looked absolutely horrid. The supers in the lab seemed to agree as mutters and murmurs filled the room. 

“His bones are healing wrong,” Bruce whispered to himself. 

“Oh, his poor ankle.”

“We have to work faster.”

Peter’s eyes seemed to stare straight at the camera for a moment, and Tony caught a full sight of the fear that resonated in the boys eyes. 

The tall, strong man spoke. Tony checked through F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s records to see the man’s name again. 

Charlie Byers.

He was wanted for aggravated murder in Nebraska. 

As the video rolled, Byers stepped forwards, and cleared his throat. 

“How are you, Mr. Stark?”

Tony glared at the screen, anger coursing through him. 

Steve spoke up from the back of the room. 

“Where’s the other?”

Seemingly in response, he answered, “As you can see, it’s just me now. Why is not important, but…”

He was cut off by a gut-wrenching noise from Peter. Something in between a scream and a cough. 

“He killed them! With alien tech! Don’t give him money Mr. Stark!”

“Shut up, kid,” Sam groaned from the back of the room, thinking what Tony was. 

He could get punished for that. 

Suddenly, Bruce stood up, knocking over his chair. 

“Alien tech!” he shouted, “F.R.I.D.A.Y. pause the video!”

The video stopped and every eye turned to the scientist. 

“This better be good,” Tony warned. 

“It is!” Bruce exclaimed, “We can track alien tech!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not completely sure where this story is going to end up... Please comment your thoughts and reactions and stuff! It really helps me continue writing and developing certain characters!!! Lots of Love! <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like, SOOO much plot development! This was a really fun to write, so I hope y'all like it!

Tony’s POV

The room was deathly quiet. Bruce stood stock-still, as if he himself were surprised at the words coming from his own mouth. 

It was Natasha who snapped everyone out of their initial shock. 

“Let’s finish the video, so we know what medical attention he may need while Bruce figures out how he can do that.”

Sam nodded, sharing a quick grin with Steve, excited about the prospect of finding Peter. Steve smiled back, but not before a concerned look spread across his face. 

Tony ran his hand through his hair nervously, knowing exactly what was running through Steve’s mind. No doubt the captain was thinking about Germany. Tony couldn’t help but think it was partially his own fault for bringing Peter in the first place. 

But Tony couldn’t fully understand the guilt Steve felt. At least Tony wasn’t actively beating up on the kid. 

As the video began to play again, the Avengers snapped out of their guilt and grief and focused their gazes on the screen again. 

Sure enough, following Peter’s little reveal of information, Byers was visibly angry, confirming what Bruce had discovered. 

He whipped around, and the calm look on his face face terrified Tony more than a scowl ever could. 

“Now, now, when will we learn to hold our tongues? Is that yet another thing Mr. Stark failed to teach us?” the man crooned. 

Another gasp went through the room. 

“Don’t defend me!” Tony whispered aloud, “Just let him say whatever, I’m coming to get you Peter!”

But Peter couldn’t hear the calming words he so desperately needed, and without hesitation, he spat at the back of the man’s head.

Another collective groan went through the room as people realized what he’d done. Byers turned again, this time revealing a glint of metal in his hand to the camera. 

“Is that a…” Wanda started.

Before she could finish Vision grabbed her shoulders and guided her quickly out of the room so she didn’t have to see what was about to happen. 

When the collar was fastened around the young boy’s neck, Byers bent down so he was eye level with Peter. 

“We will learn to watch our mouths Peter.”

Tony growled at the words, and then nearly choked on his own breath as Peter was electrocuted. His already lopsided limbs flailed around, and his face was contorted into something of fear, shame, and sheer pain. 

After what seemed like forever, his body slumped forward, still and lifeless in the chair. 

“Well,” Byers said, clapping his hands together, “Now that he’s quiet for a moment I believe you and I can have a little chat, Stark.”

Tony moved closer to the screen, nearly tripping over Bruce, who was busy typing chemical equations and complicated instructions into the computer. 

“I’m sure you wouldn’t remember me, now would you? See, I was someone you walked by on the street. I held a little cardboard sign, reading ‘Homeless, Anything Helps.’ And it was true. I was desperate for food, or even one decent plastic bottle for water. You walked right by, didn’t you? I’m sure you did the same for all of us who lived on the New York streets, hmm? It wasn’t until later, when I was nearing the end of my rope, that I was given the gift of ability, and of strength by a good friend of mine. His name is Ajax, though I doubt that’d be anything of your concern. I understand you are above us street people. What you don’t understand, Mr. Stark, is that I saw children die on the streets next to me. Where was Ironman then? He certainly wasn’t helping to protect people. No, he was off in his his fancy tower with his fancy car at his fancy party, paying no mind to those less fortunate. I won’t lie to you, I did see our little spider here help some of these children. He’d bring them food, help them to different homeless shelters, etcetera. I watched the him. Monitored what he was doing. And you took a liking to the boy, I watched it happen. You care about him, so I dropped a hint to another friend who hit a rough patch with Spider-Man a few weeks ago. So that’s why we’ve ended up here. Looking forwards to the inevitable death of little Peter. Unless, that is, you have a change of heart and decide to come and save the little one. We just need the money. Unlike you, I’ll put it to good use. I’ll see you in an hour. That is, if he makes it that long.”

The video cut out, leaving the lab quiet and still. Tony was shaking, and he began to feel panic set in. Pepper rushed forward and guided him to a chair, where she calmed him and grounded him back to a sense of crushing reality. 

“I’m almost there!” Bruce cried from across the room. “Scanning for unusual energy waves now.”

Everyone crowded around the computer, watching and waiting for something to happen. 

Finally, as Bruce was beginning to turn green with frustration at the slow pace of the computer, there was a loud ‘ding’ and coordinates appeared on the screen. 

For the first time since this whole ideal began, Tony grinned. 

“We’re coming Peter.”

Peter’s POV

Peter decided he no longer enjoyed sleep. Being a teenager, he used to crave saturday mornings when he could stay bundled up in his blankets until the afternoon sun peeked through his drapes. 

Now, when Peter drifted off to sleep, he felt only ashamed of his lack of strength. He needed to stay awake so he could plan an escape. However when he was awake, physical pain plagued his body. He felt almost locked into place in the chair, like a car stuck in the wrong gear.

He was finally pulling himself back into a conscious state when Pudgy came back into the room. 

Peter weakly lifted his head, his vision immediately swimming under the stress. 

“Good morning Peter. How’d you sleep?” the fat man asked.

“B’ttr ‘n yr gonna w’n Mstr’ ‘trk gets you,” Peter mumbled, face blushing at his broken sounding voice. 

“Yes,” Pudgy started, “Mr. Stark. Why don’t we talk about him for a minute. I want you to know that what happens to you is not your fault. I’ve seen the good things you try to do in this world, and I respect that. Unfortunately, this is for the greater good.”

Peter stared up at the man with glassy eyes. His skin felt hot and feverish as he tried to focus his concentration on the man. 

What with his blurry vision and lack of depth perception, Peter barely noticed the glint of a gun in the man’s hand. 

He said something else, but the strain of trying to talk earlier proved to be too much for him, and he only caught pieces of what the man was saying. 

Something about how he was sorry, but it needed to look bad to impact Mr. Stark. 

Desperately Peter tried to stay awake to figure out what he meant, but sleep pulled at him, beckoning him in. 

Just as he accepted the sleep, he was ripped back into reality as a sharp pain dug through his shoulder. 

He let out a strangled cry, but had the energy for nothing else, so he sat, now very much awake, as blood poured out of his shoulder. 

Pudgy’s face neared Peter’s, the formers acute stare meeting only a hazy, fever-ridden gaze in return. 

Pudgy turned on his heel and stood up, muttering words that Peter no longer cared to remember. 

“Straight Through”

“Clean Shot”

“You’ll be fine”

Peter felt a fist connect with his jaw, and heard a sickening crack. Another punch to his eye had Peter reeling. 

He wanted Aunt May. He wanted Tony. He wanted Ned. He just wanted to go home.

As he continued to bleed from his shoulder, he drifted away again, feeling that this was it. His time was through. 

As the life drained from his body, he thought he heard a bang, and muffled voices talking urgently. They were familiar and comforting, and though he only recognized a few, Peter was glad to hear them before he closed his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! Did you catch my reference in Byer's little monologue? Let me know what you think in the comments! It really helps me to keep writing! (Especially because I have finals tomorrow and I should be studying, but... oops.) Also, go follow write_the_vision_hbk22 on instagram. I post updates on chapters there, as well as some links to my non-fanfic writing. Lots of Love! <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you read this... go and follow write_the_vision_hbk22 on insta... I post stuff about my fanfic, and my non-fanfic there! Hope you enjoy!

Tony’s POV

The Avengers had always moved pretty fast, but never before had Tony seem them move with quite this speed. Within minutes of finding the coordinates they had loaded into the jet stocked with med supplies. 

The whole team was headed out to New Jersey on the jet. Helen Cho was staying behind to fully prep the medbay and the different nurses and doctors so they’d be fully prepared for Peter’s arrival. 

Tony had given her access to the videos so she’d have some idea of what shape the kid’d be in, but truthfully, he didn’t know what to expect. 

And that scared him. 

Tony was a man who needed control. It brought him safety, and comfort knowing that he was above the situation. Even though he had videos, they were blurry, and not all injuries were visible. Not to mention the physcological damage that was sure to plague his young mind. 

As they flew through the skies, Tony struggled to focus on the game plan being discussed. He just kept seeing Peter’s young little face smiling after making suit alterations. He heard that endless voice, spewing fan theories, and all the gossip from his school. If he closed his eyes, he may just be able to feel the gentle presence of Peter’s head on his shoulder, after he’d fallen asleep during some Tarzan. 

The kid had wanted to watch it with Tony because he said that they could look at the way Tarzan swung on the ropes and vines, and maybe incorporate the logistics into the Spider-Man suit. But when Peter started humming the words to ‘You’ll be in my Heart,’ Tony figured he just legitimately enjoyed the movie. 

And Tony liked the music. Though he’d never in his lifetime admit it, he had the song stuck in his head for days afterwards, and even sung it to Peter after he’d fallen asleep on the coach after a particularly long day. 

 

‘Come stop your crying it will be alright.’

 

“Tony?” Steve asked, “You ready?”

 

‘Just take my hand.’ 

Tony nodded, shaking out of his stupor. He was glad that he’d listened to at least what he was supposed to do. He took Steve’s outstretched hand, and stood up by everyone else at the jet door. 

 

‘And hold it tight.’

 

Everyone had game-faces on. Usually up until they actually got fighting, the team would joke and make fun of each other, trying to lighten the mood.

But at this point everyone knew that it was a lost cause. 

Finally, the door opened, and the Avengers ran to position, circling the dilapidated farmhouse. 

 

‘I will protect you from all around you.’ 

 

Immediately, they heard a gut-wrenching scream from inside the house. 

Rhodey saw what was about to happen coming, and he started speaking quickly through the comms to Tony in an attempt to calm him down. 

“Stark, we can’t compromise the plan. He’s going to be okay, we just have to wait for Byers to come out, okay?”

The only response the man got was Tony’s heavy breathing, anger radiating from the red and gold suit. 

A door slammed from within, and everyone tensed. 

“He’s coming,” Wanda whispered with a shaky voice. 

 

‘I will be here, don’t you cry.’ 

 

A blue tinted blast announced the arrival of the man. He didn’t look like much. Just a middle aged man holding a small handgun. 

At the sight of all the Avengers standing there, he looked shocked. He tried to cover it, but failed to hide the telltale gleam of fear in his eyes. 

“Well, well, well, I didn’t expect all of you, now did I?” he started, “You must really care for him. It’s too bad, really.”

Another blast of blue light exploded from the gun, aimed towards Rhodey. The beam of light missed him, but the sheer impact of the blast sent him careening backwards, and he slammed on the grass a few feet backwards from everyone else. 

The plan was set into motion, and they all began to close in. Wanda surrounded Bruce and Tony with a glowing red forcefield as they ran towards the house, Tony’s nano-tech suit melting away. Bruce was carrying a pack with an AED, an Ambu bag, and other basic first-aid supplies. Bruce smashed through one of the dirty windows and clambered in, followed by a hasty Tony. 

“You take the left and I’ll go right,” Tony yelled. 

“Okay, just keep an eye out for anything unusual,” Rhodey replied. 

As they searched the house, Sam came in the front door, holding the next batch of supplies, a stretcher and a cervical collar, along with various other braces and straps. He was sporting an impressive shiner, and looked winded, but was otherwise okay. 

“He’s… he’s strong,” the Falcon panted, “But I think we’ve almost got him. Rhodey’s definitely got a concussion, but everyone else is good.”

Rhodey shot him a look, and Tony pretended not to hear. 

“Crap,” Sam muttered under his breath. 

It didn’t take the men long to find the door. Tony winced at the sight of blood staining the handle, but he pushed the door open. 

Bound to a chair sat a motionless heap that may have once resembled a nerdy, fun-loving boy named Peter. 

Tony staggered backwards at the sight of his kid. 

 

‘For one so small, you seem so strong’

 

Blood fell in rivulets from what looked like a fresh bullet wound at his shoulder. His ankle was swollen, and was a complete array of nauseating colors. His limbs were bent around and twisted in a way that seemed surreal and completely unnatural. 

They were in a small closet, with barely enough room for the three of them to fit in. It was dark, and the floor was cold and dirty. 

Tony reached over and brushed a hand over Peter’s bruised cheek, pulling back as he felt the child’s burning skin. 

“He has a fever!” Tony yelled.

“I’m not surprised,” Bruce started, “I’m sure it’s an infection.”

 

‘My arms will hold you, keep you safe and warm’

 

Bruce gently pushed Tony to the side, and he and Sam began working on the cuffs binding Peter. 

Tony let one of his gauntlets surround his hand, and summoned the blade function. He sliced through them with a shocking amount of ease. 

“He shoulda been able to break out of these,” Bruce muttered as the cuffs fell away. 

Sam didn’t even look up from arranging the plastic board for Peter. “Not if he was drugged.”

Without warning, Bruce’s hands stopped examining the boys chest for injuries. 

“He’s not breathing!”

 

‘This bond between us can’t be broken.’ 

 

Sam twisted back over to the chair and lifted Peter up and out, his hands sure and steady, careful of his head and neck. He placed the broken boy on the board, and checked for breathing, coming up with the same result as Banner. 

“Tony, turn the AED on,” Sam commanded as he began chest-compressions. 

 

‘I will be here, don’t you cry’

 

Tony was in a complete state of hopelessness as his two friends struggled to force life back into the body of his kid. 

Panic began to set in. 

Not Peter.

This didn’t happen.

Not real.

Not Peter.

Not real. 

His feet carried him outside. Nat was standing over Byers, who was fully restrained against the old house.

“I’ll only ask you one more time…” Natasha was saying, her voice cold and emotionless.

Clint sat a ways away on the grass, cradling his wrist, but admiring Natasha’s viciousness with a slight smile. Wanda and Vision knelt over Rhodey. 

Tony knew he should’ve went over to him and made sure he was alright. He should be with Peter, helping, getting him ready for transport. 

But Tony was blind. Peter was currently dead, not breathing, heart not pumping. His mind swam as he walked methodically to where Nat was standing, his suit forming around him. 

Without saying a word, or acknowledging anyone, he raised his hand and pointed it at the mans head. 

“Tony, no! Wait!” Clint cried, struggling to push himself to his feet. 

Tony ignored him. 

He activated his repulsor, aimed, and fired.

 

 

 

'Cause you'll be in my heart

Yes, you'll be in my heart

From this day on

Now and forever more

You'll be in my heart

No matter what they say

You'll be here in my heart

Always’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First: song is 'You'll be in my Heart' by Phil Collins. Its a beautiful song and everyone should go and listen to it. Second: I know a lot of people were wanting a rescue, and there is a lot more to come! This was just really important to Tony's character. Not sure about the style, because it's my first time doing something like this, so please let me know what you think in the comments! Lots of Love!!!<3


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm so bad at summaries, I'm just gonna let you read it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy! Don't forget to follow write_the_vision_hbk22 on instagram:)

Tony’s POV

Boom. 

The sound echoed throughout the empty countryside, and for a moment, the world was silent. 

Tony dropped out of his dream-like state and smashed back into reality. He fell to his knees as his suit receded once again. 

Steve was at his side in a flash, pulling him to his feet. 

“Come on buddy, we’ve gotta get Peter back,” he said.

Nat was yelling something in his ear, but was pulled back by Clint, who wrapped the fuming woman up in a hug and herded her into the jet, followed closely by Tony and Steve. 

They moved everything out of the way, and Steve ran back out to help with Peter. Tony, falling back into his personality, got up, and ran to help Wanda and Vision, who were struggling to help Rhodey. 

As they got him to lay down, Steve ran back in, followed by Bruce and Sam, who were carrying Peter between them. 

Tony gasped harshly, finally seeing Peter for the first time with a clear mind. 

“He’s breathing, but barely,” Sam said, exhaling as they set him down gently.

Tony knelt next to the boy, taking a mental picture he would never be able to drink away, no matter how hard he tried. 

Blood and bruises coated Peter’s young face. His eyes were halfway opened, but glassy. The shoulder of his shirt was completely coated in blood, though the wound was wrapped up tight in bandages, which were being quickly soaked through. His arms and legs were twisted around, and they just looked so painful. There was a long scar around his collarbone, that had closed up, but was bright red and raised, Tony’s limited medical knowledge warned him of infection. Hid neck itself was circled by burns, most likely from the electric shock he’d undergone. His ankle, well his ankle was probably the worst. The wound looked like it was trying to heal, but was failing miserably. Pus leaked from the edges of the jagged hole in the ankle, which was still leaking blood. Angry red lines shot from around the wound. 

His shirt had been ripped open, and AED pads were adhered to his bare chest. Sam continued taking vitals as the plane took off. 

“I don’t like this heart rate. It’s fast and too irregular!” he exclaimed. 

Bruce was on the phone with Helen, giving her the rundown of what they could see of Peter’s injuries. 

“Bruce,” Sam started, “I think he’s going septic.”

Bruce set the phone on speaker, leaving Helen to yell questions to an unlistening audience. 

“Already?” Bruce asked. 

Sam looked almost panicked, all his military training and cool demeanor falling away. 

“Fast heart rate, his fevers at 103, struggling to breathe. It’s the ankle for sure. There’s no exit wound.”

Tony stood up. 

“Are you telling me there’s a bullet still in his leg?” he hissed, as though speaking in his full voice would upset Peter. 

Sam grimaced, and continued examining the ruined ankle. 

“Yes Tony, I think that is what I’m saying.”

Tony sat back down and grasped Peter’s hand in his own. 

Had it always been this small?

Tony’s guilt complex began to take over again. If only he hadn’t taken the suit. Then Peter could’ve gotten away. He could’ve saved himself, could’ve avoided all this pain. 

Could’ve. 

That had to be the most useless word in the whole of the english language. 

All Tony wanted was to go back in time and keep his kid from all this suffering, but he couldn’t. Peter, his adored and beloved protege, might not live through this. 

Tony rubbed small circles on the back of his bruised hand, and he sat, remembering the harsh words he’d said when Peter had almost destroyed a ferry in an attempt to save the world. Tony swore to listen to every ridiculous word that he said. 

He couldn’t even bear to think about the fact that they had to track down the guy Peter’d warned them about. If alien tech was an issue, they needed to solve that one, and fast. 

Before anyone else gets hurt. 

As he sat with Peter, watching two of his friends work their hearts out trying to save him, he felt a tear slip down his cheek. 

Normally, he would’ve brushed it away, because Tony Stark does not cry. But instead, he let the tears fall, knowing Peter was worth all the tears in the world. 

Peter’s POV

Peter felt weird. 

No, not weird. Straight up freaky. 

Moments after Pudgy left the room, Peter tried to move his finger, which was pressed too tightly against the chair leg. Nothing happened. 

It was as if his own muscles had ceased to acknowledge him, leaving him with overwhelming pain, and no control. 

He was just so tired, so he tried to relax into sleep. 

But he couldn’t. He was still awake, and he heard noises. A voice, maybe?

Wait, it was Tony’s voice. Though he could feel the roughness of his throat, Peter tried to call out to him, to tell him where he was. 

But apparently his vocal cords had gotten the message as well. Peter had no authority. 

Luckily, they found him. 

Tony was there, and was that…

Bruce Banner! Peter’s subconscious fangirled for a moment about the fact that THE Bruce Banner was in the same room as he was, but he stopped when he saw the next person who rushed into the room. 

The falcon. 

Last time Peter had seen him, they’d been fighting in Germany. But now, Tony, Bruce, and Sam were working together. 

Again, the thought crossed his mind to ask, but he couldn't.

Pain flares across his face, but he realized that it was just Tony, caressing his face gently. Now, it didn't hurt as much, considering it was gentle contact, and not something that was meant to cause pain.

But Tony pulled his hand back, yelling something about a fever to Mr. Banner and Mr. Wilson. 

Oh yeah. Peter used to be a Boy Scout, and he vaguely remembered hearing stuff about how wounds had to be cleaned properly to avoid infections. 

Oops.

Peter was suddenly blinded by a flash of pain from his shoulder, and he missed what the men were saying, but they were cutting him out from the chair, and laying him on an uncomfortable plastic board.

The moment jostled him, and all his wounds felt aggravated again. 

‘Stop,’ he thought, ‘please. It hurts so bad. Just listen to me! You have to stop, it hurts!’

The three avengers were working much more quickly now, though Peter couldn't tell why. 

He watched as they ripped apart the tattered remains of his t-shirt. 

Dang. He kinda liked that one. 

Soon, they were sticking pads on his chest. 

“Analyzing Heart Rythmn,” a robotic voice announced. “Please stay clear of the patient.”

Tony got up and stormed out.

Peter felt his heart fall to the floor. 

Was he dead? Had Tony given up on him? 

“Shock advised. Please stay clear of the patient.”

No, no, no. Peters mind ran wild. No more shocks. Please. It hurt so bad. 

But still it came. He felt his body jolt upwards, and then fall back down. 

He waited for the AED to announce if his heart was working again. 

“Analyzing heart rhythm… Heart Beat detected. Please seek medical attention.”

If Peter could've cried with relief, he would've. But Sam did for him, making Peter feel completely overwhelmed with gratitude for the man. 

He heard the sound of running feet, and then another face appeared at the closet door. 

No way. 

Captain America?!

“How’s Peter?”

Uh, I’m dying, but can I get your autograph?

Well, that was what he wanted to say anyways. 

Again, his beautiful fangirling was interrupted. This time, it was agonizing pain as he was lifted into the air, and walked out to a jet. 

Wow, this really hurt. As he fruitlessly tried to coax himself into peace, he looked up to see Tony kneeling next to him, and though awake and very much in pain, he found some of that peace. 

That was, until he heard that dreaded word. 

 

Septic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! Please let me know your thoughts in the comment section. 
> 
> Also, should Wanda have a bigger part? I kinda feel like she and Peter would read really well together, but I'm not completely sure. 
> 
> And Happy Summer! (Yay for actually having time to write!!!!!)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a short one, but I had to get it written out.

TONY’S POV

Thank the Lord for jets. 

They had traveled quickly through the skies, and were finally touching down on top of the tower. Helen was waiting beside the landing bay with a gurney, and was met with a half-frantic Sam and Bruce as they ran Peter out of the jet and into the safety of the tower. 

Tony struggled behind, pausing only to have F.R.I.D.A.Y. call for another gurney, this one for Rhodey. 

As much as Tony wanted to be with his friend, he needed to be with Peter, and so he rushed down to the medbay, searching frantically for where they’d gone. 

As he barreled down the hallways, he almost ran into Pepper, who was in tears, also running. 

“Tony!” she cried.

“Peter. Where’s Peter?” Tony asked. 

“I was looking for you to tell you,” Pepper said, “They took him straight into surgery. Sam said that if you scrubbed up you could go in and sit with him.”

Tony kissed the top of her head, and then sprinted off towards the surgical rooms. He slowed outside to make sure he was sanitized and all that, but then he blasted through the door. 

Peter was hooked up to too many machines to count. He had tubes running through his nose and mouth. He’d been stripped of his clothes, and some of the other doctors he didn't know by name were casting his arms. 

The stunned engineer briefly thought about how bad it was that he didn't know the names of the people saving his kid. But those thoughts were interrupted S he sat in a chair next to Peter’s head. 

He just lay there, unmoving. Tony kept expecting him to shoot upright and start spewing words to fill the uncomfortable silence. 

Tony didn't pretend to know what all they were doing, but he trusted Helen, Sam, and Bruce to do what they needed to do. They worked efficiently, and professionally. Helen and Bruce seemed to be taking care of the bigger things, and Sam oversaw care of the cuts, bruises, and broken bones. 

The re-breaking was tough for Tony to stomach. Because of Peter’s enhanced healing, his bones had tried to heal themselves, but in the wrong positions. Helen had to re-break them to set correctly, and the noise alone was enough to make any grown man throw up. 

He wanted to ask why they hadn’t set and caster his right leg, but he knew better than to ask. 

As they continued working, Helen and Bruce stood together looking at his right ankle. They waved Sam and a few others over to look at it, Helen pointing things out with tears in her eyes and blood on her gloves. 

Sam whipped his head around to look at Tony, and then back at Bruce. 

Tony remained blissfully unaware of what was being discussed as he ran his fingers through Peter’s dirty brown curls, glad his boy would be okay. 

He didn't see Sam approaching him, and putting a hand on his shoulder. Tony looked up, and saw Sam gesturing for him to follow him out the door. 

“I’m staying here,” Tony said, confused. 

“Com on,” Sam whispered. 

Tony stood, trying to look intimidating though he was far shorter than Sam. 

“No.”

After a wave of Sam’s hand, Steve entered the room. 

Tony cursed himself for putting windows on the operating rooms. 

Sam whispered something to Steve, whose eyes grew wide, and his hand flew to his mouth. 

“Tony.” 

Tony shook his head. 

“I won't leave him.”

Steve and Sam swapped a glance, and then Steve stepped forwards to within an arms length of Tony. 

“Come on, they need room to work,” Steve said.

“No,” Tony insisted, “You’ll have to carry me out. I'm not going anywhere.”

 

 

And that's how Tint ended up on Steve’s shoulder in a fireman's hold. 

Tony kicked and screamed like a child, in full distress and disarray as Steve carried him down to the med bay waiting room.

Just as Steve suspected, by the time they reached the plush couches holding the rest of the team, exhaustion had set in, and Tony was fast asleep on a couch next to Pepper.

PETER’S POV

Peter felt everything. Every little incision, every poke and pull. His nerves and his senses remained in hyper-drive. Getting his bones re-set really sucked. He kept expecting to black out from pain, like he did in the van, and in that suffocating little closet, but he never did. 

Maybe the subconscious just didn't do that.

He couldn't help but feel grateful for the doctors in the room, even though they hadn't given him any painkillers or anything. But in their defense, there was no way they could know he could still feel stuff.

By the sheer amount of tubes and wires running to and from his body, he figured he wasn't in the best shape. But when Tony came in, he didn't look too worried, which calmed Peter to no end. 

However, when Steve came in and had to carry Tony out of the room, Peter freaked out a little bit. He tried to focus on something else, but there wasn't really much else to do. So he just tried to see what was so bad that Tony had to leave the room. 

It didn't take Peter long to figure out what was wrong, and when he did, if he had control over his body, he would've thrown up. 

TONY’S POV

When Tony woke up, the first thing he thought of was how hungry he was. He had no clue what time it was, where he was, or why in the world he was sleeping on a couch. 

When he saw Steve on a couch opposite him and Pepper next to him, the events of the past day came slamming back to him. 

He shot upright.

“Where's Peter?” He asked, shakily standing up and starting towards the O.R. 

“Whoa, buddy,” Steve said, getting up and standing in Tony’s way. 

“Peter’s still in surgery. You need to give them space to work.”

Defeated, Tony sat back down, suddenly feeling awful that he'd been so belligerent earlier. He knew better than anyone that doctors needed space to work. 

“Steve,” Tony started, “I'm so sorry. I was just tired, and…”

“It's okay, I understand,” Steve interrupted.

Tony sat back down and rubbed his temple, trying to shake off the oncoming headache.

“How's Rhodey?” Tony asked, suddenly remembering that there were, like, other people he needed to check up on. 

“He's fine,” reassured Wanda, who was walking into the room with a mug of coffee. She handed it to Tony, and then sat on the couch next to him. 

“He has a pretty nasty concussion, but other than that he was just a little bruised.”

“And everyone else?” Tony prompted. 

This time Vision answered as he walked through the back wall. 

“Clint has a broken arm, Natasha needed stitches for a pretty big cut, but other than that everyone is just a little banged up.”

Tony nodded, feeling a little dazed.

If he hadn't taken the suit, none of this would've happened. No one would be hurt at all.

He felt a telltale tingle in the back of his mind before Wanda spoke up again.

“Tony, it is not your fault,” she told him, eyes full of worry. 

“Get out of my head,” he spit back.

As Wanda sat back down with a hurt expression, Bruce entered the room.

He put a hand up, as if to block the barrage of questions. 

Tony could barely breathe, and a now-awake Pepper wrapped a comforting arm around his shoulder. 

“Want the good news or bad?” Bruce asked, running a hand through his hair. 

Tony tried to speak, but no words came out. 

Pepper looked up, and then spoke for the room.

“Good.”

“He’ll live,” Bruce sighed, relief evident in his voice. 

“We were able to stabilize him.”

The whole room lightened considerably, but then crashed back down as Tony finally spoke up.

 

“And the bad news?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this one! Let me know what you think in the comments! Sorry I know it's short, but im doing the best I can lol. Anyways, leave me a comment!
> 
> Lots of love!!!<3


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How does Tony handle the bad news about Peter???? (Hint: Not that well)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long to write this! I was struggling a bit to find time and motivation. And then I had an idea for a one-shot, so I got that posted... If you are liking this story, go and check it out! Also for this one, please read through the tags, thy have been updated!!!! But anyways, its here, so I hope you like it!

Tony’s POV

 

“ _Tony?!”_

_“...it together…”_

_“He needs you strong”_

_“...sit down, yeah?”_

 

Voices came in and out of Tony’s head, but all he felt was the floor underneath his feet. He felt strangely grounded, balanced. 

He was suddenly aware of the balance he had standing on his two legs. 

He didn’t know how long he stood there. Someone came to try and get him to sit down, but he shook the hand off, not even caring who it was. 

The world seemed to spin in circles around him. People came and went from the room, until it was only Bruce. 

The weary-eyed man walked grabbed Tony’s elbow, and led him to the couch with a firm but gentle touch. 

“I need you to breathe Ton,” Bruce said. 

Tony gasped, feeling his mind slam back into reality. 

“How could you?” he choked, voice cracking horribly. “How could you do that to Peter?”

Bruce ran a hand through his hair. 

“It was the best option,” Bruce replied in a calm voice, “The whole ankle was _ruined_. The bone, the muscle, the nerves, all of it. Keeping it would have only caused him more harm.”

“I have the best damn medical personnel and equipment money can buy. He’s just a kid! I don’t want to live needing some metal for his body to work… I want him to be better than me,” Tony moaned. 

Bruce had to choke back a sob, though he was quite unsure of how he had become so protective of the boy. 

“You can, um, go see him if you want,” Bruce started, “But there’s something else I need to tell you. It got so crazy earlier, I couldn’t, but you need to know.”

“What?” Tony growled, feeling nothing but anger at the man sitting next to him. 

“He’s non-responsive, Tony.”

“What?” the engineer demanded. “Not like a coma, right?”

Bruce drew in his breath. 

“Exactly like a coma.”

Tony saw red. He felt his fists clench of their own accords, and before he could take another breath, his knuckles connected with Bruce’s face. 

F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice filled the room, and within seconds, Steve hurdled around the corner, and tackled Tony. 

Bruce stood up, a bruise forming around his left eye, and blood dripping from his bottom lip. 

Steve grabbed Tony by the shoulders, and sat with him on the cool floor. 

“You have to cool it man,” he whispered in an attempt to calm the shaking man down. “It won’t help Peter if you can’t be strong for him.”

Something in Tony broke. 

He collapsed into tears, unable to fully catch his breath. 

He tried to say something, much the only sound that came out was a strangled, “ _Peter_.”

After a while of him crying, Pepper came in, and took Steve’s place. She helped Tony into a sitting position, and rubbed circles on the small of his back, like she did when he had a nightmare. 

That was really what this was, wasn’t it? Just a nightmare?

This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. They were supposed to get Peter back. They;d fix him up in medical, and then Tony would have Bruce wheel Peter into his room. They’d think of a story to tell May as a cover-up, like they always did when a mission required extended leave either for minor injuries to heal, or for travel time and whatnot. 

But that wasn’t what happened, was it? 

Sitting with Pepper calmed him down considerably, and suddenly he stood up. 

“I’m going to apologize to Bruce, and then I’m going to sit with Peter,” he announced. 

Pepper scrambled to her feet. 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? You need time to rest, and Peter… well, he won’t look good.”

“I can handle it,” Tony grunted.

Then, he spun on his heels and left, leaving Pepper in tears. 

F.R.I.D.A.Y. stopped Tony halfway to the common area to tell him that Dr. Banner had returned to the medbay. 

Worrying that something had happened to Peter, he took off running through the halls, arriving breathless at the door of Peter’s room. 

The window on the door kept the bed hidden from sight, but gave view to Bruce sitting in a large armchair, holding an ice-pack to his face. 

Ever-so-slowly, Tony pushed the door open. Before he looked at the bed, he exchanged a glance with Bruce. It was as much of an apology as he could muster, but both men knew the message was sent and received. 

Tony let out a breath as he turned around to look at Peter. 

It was hard for Tony to see where machines ended and Peter’s body began. There were monitors and IV’s and casts and slings surrounding the pale boy. A ventilator whirred beside the bed, and Peter’s chest rose and fell steadily. 

A purple and black bruise blossomed across his face, and peeked out from behind the white casts on his arms. 

But the worst was his right leg. On the left, though it was bandaged and casted, Peter’s leg was still all there. But on his right, it stopped below the knee. It looked just so wrong. 

It was like Peter was there, just not completely.

Tony faltered for a moment, and placed a hand on the small table opposite the foot of the bed, 

But then Steve’s words came ringing through his head again. 

_“It won’t help Peter if you can’t be strong for him.”_

 

So Tony pulled up another chair, and sat next to Peter. 

Bruce, sensing he was not needed, left the room as Tony began to speak.

“Y’know kid, if you’d told me a year ago I’d be crying because I was afraid of losing you, I don’t know if I would have believed you. I try so hard not to get close to anybody. Because when stuff like this happens, and it’s all my fault, I just… I don’t think I can take any more of this. The people I love the most, trust the most, they leave me. And no one could ever replace you kid. Even the rest of the team, they don’t quite get me like you do. They don’t really know that I listen to your stupid little Star Wars theories. I couldn’t let them see I even pay attention because I can’t have them finding out that I have my own theories. I mean c’mon with a film series that detailed how could you not, right? But anyways, I never got to tell you my own theories. We haven’t even gone to see ‘Solo’ yet! I guess what I’m trying to say, is that I need you to wake up. I know it’s hard, but we’re gonna get through this. You’ve… you’ve lost so much, but you still have so much to live for. Everythings is gonna be fine. But only if you just wake up.”

Tony waited for something to happen. Something cool and climactic. 

But his small body remained still.

Tony chuckled lightly. 

“It’s okay buddy. Take your time. I’ll be here.”

 

 

When Tony awoke, the first thing he felt was frustration that he’d even fallen asleep. But as his senses all came into focus, he heard the commotion coming from outside the door. 

“Wanda! Slow down!” someone(Sam?) was yelling. 

“Talk to me Wanda. What’s going on?”

Steve. 

Tony sprang to the door. 

“What is going on?” he hissed. 

Wanda was running down the hallway, her eyes and hands aglow with red light. Sam and Steve were chasing her, but reached they got there too late. 

Wanda’s eyes turned back to normal, and she grasped Tony’s forearms tightly as she tried to catch her breath. 

“Tony!” she gasped. 

“Hey, hey, hey, calm down,” Tony said, ignoring the raised eyebrow he got from Steve. 

“What happened?”

“It...It’s Peter,” she gasped, “I can hear him!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew. Sorry for any mistakes, but I really needed out of my writers block, so yeah. Sorry again for the sporadic updates, but on my insta at write_the_vision_hbk22 I post updates on chapters and stuff, and I don't have a tumblr, so I take prompts there. 
> 
> There's still a whole lot of plot that's going to happen, so don't think anyone is out of the woods yet!
> 
> Please leave a comment about thoughts on the chapter or the whole fic in general. 
> 
> Lots of love!<3


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a short chapter, but it's better than nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we're exploring another relationship in this one, so please read and let me know what you think!

Tony’s POV

“Take a deep breath Wanda,” Sam was saying. 

She drew in a long, shaky breath, and blew it out slowly. 

“Okay,” Tony started, “Now that we’ve wasted some time, can you please explain?”

Steve put a hand on Tony’s shoulder, and spun him around so that he was facing the door. 

“Let’s all go and sit down, yeah?”

Grumbling, Tony pushed the door open, and held it for Wanda, Sam, and Steve. As they sat down, the rest of the team came down the hallway, all looking incredibly worried. 

Without letting anyone say anything, Tony just threw up his hands and ushered everyone else into the room. 

Bruce had Peter settled into the largest of all the rooms for this exact purpose, so everyone fit comfortably, some standing, and some sitting. 

Every eye turned expectantly to Wanda, who had perched on the arm of the couch, and was wringing her hands nervously. 

“Wanda,” Steve began cautiously, “Can you explain what you meant when you said you could hear Peter?”

“I, uh… well I can usually hear voices in my head. You know, like people’s thoughts and stuff. When we got back, and all those doctors were in with Peter, there were so many thoughts. And people were all so frantic. Everyone was yelling, and crying, and cursing. It was so, so _loud_.” The Sokovian girl shuddered in remembrance, but continued. 

“After a while, I started to hear more regret, and fear, and a little while later everything was quiet again. Except for one voice. One single voice that kept crying, and I could feel pain radiating from. And then I heard him. Peter. He just kept saying ‘Stop, it hurts. It hurts. Stop.’ I wanted to look deeper, to see what was happening, and why I could hear someone who was unconscious, but it hurt so much. There was so much pain, and fear. I… I couldn’t…” 

Wanda broke off, and fell into deep, heaving sobs. Clint rushed forwards and caught her as she fell from the couch. She threw her arms around the man, and nestled her head into his shoulder, crying. 

Bruce had moved to the monitors surrounding Peter. 

“Nothing here suggests that he’s awake or in pain or anything like that,” he muttered. 

Tony’s eyes were blazing once again, kicking into full-on papa-bear mode.

“Someone tell me what the hell is going on?”

Bruce turned slowly to face Tony, the former’s black eye glinting at the angle. Tony sat back down, frustrated that the guilt had actually shut him up. 

(Good grief, what was happening to him?)

“I have a theory, but first lets make Peter more comfortable, yeah?”

Wanda sat up straight up, though she still grasped Clint’s arm for support. 

“He said yes,” she whispered, incredulous. 

Bruce pushed a button on a computer. 

“Helen, can you please bring morphine to Peter’s room?”

After a second, Helen Cho came running into the room with a new I.V. bag. They hooked it up to Peter’s vein, and everyone watched Peter carefully as if something was going to happen. 

But the change happened in Wanda, who physically relaxed in Clint’s arms as the drugs began to take affect. 

“That’s… that’s better,” she breathed. 

Clint looked up at everyone with a pained expression as he pulled Wanda closer to him. 

Tony watched as her breathing began to even out as she fell asleep. 

“So he knows what’s going on?” Tony asked. “Does that mean he’s gonna wake up?” 

“Geez, Ton, I have no clue.” Bruce flopped down next to Bucky on the couch. 

“We are in completely uncharted territory. If I had to guess, knowing what I know about Peter’s abilities, I would guess that his body is in a coma, trying to heal itself, but his mind… isn’t? He’s a superhuman, so there’s really no way of knowing, but obviously, he has some control of his senses. So… oh no…”

“What now?” Natasha asked.

Bruce looked a little shell-shocked, and his lips began to move, though no words came out. 

“I...we… we operated on him. We gave him some anaesthetic, but I’m sure his metabolism burned right through. He could have felt everything. We _amputated_ his leg. And he could feel the pain. 

Tony’s eyes narrowed menacingly. 

Clint picked up Wanda, sensing loud confrontation * _Read, ‘Tony flipping out._. Not wanting her to wake, he carried the exhausted girl out of the room and down the hall.

Steve again was the one to diffuse the situation. 

“Come one Tony, they didn’t know. They saved the poor kid’s life, please don’t be upset.”

Tony knew that he was right, but it wasn’t easy for him to concede. So he sat on the couch, and fumed. 

Bucky awkwardly patted Tony’s knee as an attempted kind gesture, but got no affirmation in return.

Everyone sat silently, until a buzz startled everyone. The entire room jumped up and into fighting stances. 

“Cool it guys,” Natasha said, “It’s just me.”

She pointed to her watch, and her eyes widened as she looked at the face more closely. 

“I have to go,” she mumbled, “Be back later.”

She stalked out, leaving the other heroes slightly confused. 

But they didn’t have much time to ponder, because Tony spoke up. 

“Bruce, I, uh, I never did ask for a full injury list.”

Bruce looked up, surprised. 

“You sure?”

“Yes I’m sure,” Tony grunted in annoyance. 

“Okay. Well uh he has bruising across most of his face. He has a fairly clean break in his right arm, but a compound fracture in his left. He has a broken femur, which we’ve casted, and we expect that it’ll heal well. There was a lot of muscle damage from the electrocution, but our scans don’t show any brain or organ damage, which is really, really fortunate. The loss of the lower right leg will require extensive therapy, but I’m assuming we’ll get him a prosthetic to help.”

Tony scoffed. Peter’d have the best damn leg in the world. 

“And there’s one more thing,” Bruce said, exasperated, “We are unsure of what his range of motion will look like because of the damage to his shoulder. Hopefully his healing factor will help him out, but I’m not sure yet.”

Tony exhaled. He didn’t say anything to Bruce, but instead he moved closer to Peter, and started brushing his hair away from his face. 

He didn’t even notice Bucky leaving the room. 

Bucky’s POV

 

Bucky didn’t even know where he was walking to, but he just kept walking. 

He assumed he was having the same thoughts as everyone else. 

No one wanted the innocent little boy to end up as an Avenger. Not because Peter wasn’t strong enough, or smart enough, or good enough, but because there was so much extra baggage. 

Being an Avenger was quiet nights interrupted by nightmares. It was achy joints from past injuries, and the constant fear of more. It was feeling loss for those past, and pushing people away because you just can’t bear getting too close to someone who may leave. 

All an Avenger has is the team. And Bucky still didn’t feel that he was a part of that. 

Everyone else had these histories with each other, and these strong, unbreakable bonds. But Bucky was an outsider. He wasn’t always Bucky. He was the Winter Soldier. Unpredictable. He’d killed Tony’s parents, fought against so many of them. 

As he kept walking, he finally realized where his feet were taking him, though it was a little surprising. 

Wanda’s bedroom door creaked open, and she stepped out into the hallway next to Bucky, eyes still a pale red. 

“You know,” she started, “I’m not always Wanda. Sometimes I’m just the Scarlet Witch. I fought against them too. I helped Ultron.”

Bucky didn’t register the tear sliding down his cheek. 

Wanda smiled softly at him, and rested a hand on his metal arm. 

“You may be an outsider, but you’re not alone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, sorry I had to have some Bucky feels in this one because someone told me Bucky was the worst Avenger bc he was a traitor... I flipped out a little but I fixed it the only way I know how, with fanfiction. 
> 
> Also, my brothers and I have been having an ongoing argument about who the best Avenger is, so if you want to give an opinion, it may help settle the debate. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I will get the next one up as soon as possible. Please leave a comment/review!!!
> 
> Lots of love!<3


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this very late at night, but hey it's here. Please note that there is a panic attack in this chapter, so please don't read if that will make you uncomfortable. It's not terribly descriptive, but still. Enjoy!

Peter’s POV

When Peter realized that Wanda could read his mind, he was suddenly very self-conscious. Somewhat luckily, the pain kept his mind occupied. He felt as though he was screaming to be let out, but absolutely no one could hear him. 

Seeing Tony in the room calmed him considerably, and when his mentor confessed his thoughts on Star Wars, Peter swore he almost felt his voice start working again. 

When his stupid body would start to respond again, Peter swore to himself that he’d give Tony a real hard time. 

His senses ached. He wasn’t moving at all, but that didn’t stop the constant throbbing from his bones, and the uncomfortable tickle from I.V.s and machines helping him, y’know, live.

He kinda wished he could be omniscient, like people from the movies. But instead, he only could register what he’d be able to normally. 

But his senses were still a little off, which explained why he couldn’t tell that Wanda was in his head. He used to know immediately, and he’d often just throw a pillow at her head until the weird tingling sensation in his brain went away. 

He did feel bad for the pain transferred to his friend when she entered his mind.

But in all honesty, he was glad she did. As the whole team filed into his room, he felt so safe again. 

But when Bruce pushed painkillers into his veins, he started to panic. He was fading. Falling asleep. He couldn’t see, couldn’t smell, couldn’t feel, couldn’t hear. 

And he fell into dark, all-encompassing _nothing_. 

 

 

 

 

Tony’s POV

Tony felt lost without Peter.

He didn’t know what to do with himself. 

Pepper was an angel. She not only was arranging adoption papers, but also handling all Stark Industries business so that he could stay with Peter. 

But he still felt as though he didn’t know what to do with himself. 

Bruce forced him to eat a granola bar about an hour ago, but he wasn’t hungry. 

Or thirsty. 

Or tired. 

He didn’t want to do anything but sit in Peter’s room.

His sole focus was on the small boy laying on the hospital bed. 

But while he was completely focused on Peter, he found himself spiraling a bit. 

Whenever he felt down on himself about a mission that didn’t go so well, Peter talked him back up. 

When he was nervous about something, Peter calmed him down. 

But now when he needed him most, Peter wasn’t there. And it was all his fault. 

If he hadn’t taken away Peter’s suit (for trying to draw attention to a serious issue that Tony had _ignored_ ), then Peter would be able to fight back. He could’ve gotten away, and he wouldn’t be in a coma. May wouldn’t be dead. Peter would still have two whole legs. 

How on earth was he going to tell Peter that he’d never walk on his own again? Not to mention that his last living family was murdered. 

Tony wasn’t completely sure what being a good mentor entailed, but he knew for a fact that ignoring a protege to the point where said protege is kidnapped and tortured is not part of the job description. 

 

He should just let Peter walk out of his life. 

Then Tony couldn’t hurt him anymore. He could leave the superhero life behind and have a normal life. 

Well, as normal as a life could get without a guardian and half a leg. 

Gosh, what was he thinking. He wasn’t ever leaving this kid’s side again. But he didn’t know how to raise a child. It wasn’t like he had an exceptional role model or anything. 

He just hoped he could do a good job. 

Wow he needed Peter to wake up. Selfishly, he just needed someone to tell him that it was okay. That it wasn’t his fault. 

But clearly that wasn’t happening for a while. Peter had yet to show signs of waking up. He just lay there with machines _living_ for him. 

But he’d wait, just like he promised. He’d wait for his kid to wake up.

 

 

 

If only it was that simple.

 

Wanda’s POV

Wanda looked up at Bucky with big eyes. She knew that he felt this way, but only know worked up the courage to admit that she was in the same place. 

It felt nice though to be able to actually relate to someone. She truly hadn’t been able to since… well since Pietro died. 

But maybe there was hope for her. And she knew that Bucky felt the same way as well. She had to read his mind to figure it out, seeing as he’d never admit it, but a great weight inside him had been alleviated. 

And she knew Peter felt the same way. He was considered a vigilante for so long, and since he was so much younger, he constantly felt as though no one really wanted him there. 

Which as Wanda knew, again, through the intense emotions surrounding the recent events, that it was far from the truth. 

Actually, she knew that it was quite the opposite for all three of them. 

Clint was completely overprotective of her. Tony thought Peter was a literal angel on earth, and Steve would not hesitate to take a bullet for Bucky. 

It was interesting though. Yet another side-effect of being an Avenger; Not wanting to share feelings with one another. 

Sometimes Wanda wanted to just tell people what each other was thinking. It’d solve so many conflicts. But she knew she couldn’t do that. People had to work things out on their own. No matter how hard it may be. 

She thought she should check back in with Peter, and so she closed her mind from other things, and looked for Peter’s mind. 

But she couldn’t find him.

Where the soft, slightly strained voice of Peter once was, there was only… emptiness. 

A buzzing lull that filled the dimension of thoughts that Wanda surrounded herself in. She heard Tony, loudly blaming himself, and Clint, wondering how his kids were. Bucky was feeling grateful for Wanda reaching out to him. Vision was worrying about Peter, and Wanda. Steve was trying to work out as a way to avoid thinking about the battle in Germany, but he was truly failing miserably, and was completely overwhelmed with guilt and grief. Bruce was looking at designs for prosthetics. Natasha was looking for someone on the streets, though even she wasn’t entirely sure who yet. But where Peter’s usually busy thoughts were, there was a hole. It was dark and empty. She moved closer, but felt conflicted. 

She wanted to find Peter, but suddenly she felt an overwhelming sense of recognition. 

The darkness. 

The emptiness. 

The loss. 

Alone. 

Deserted. 

He was just… gone. 

No. 

Not Peter. 

Not like Pietro. 

 

_No._

 

“Wanda!” 

“Wanda you’re having a panic attack.”

“C’mon, breathe with me. In and out. Like this.”

Wanda gasped for air. Her throat felt like it didn’t work anymore, and she couldn’t breathe. 

Who was next to her? They were rubbing her back softly. Whispering calming words. Breathing slowly, evenly. 

Bucky. 

Eventually, she came back to, regaining control of her reality. She was sitting on the floor next to Bucky, panting heavily. 

What she wanted to do was to go back into her room and sleep. After what happened earlier, she was already exhausted, and panic attacks always made her feel completely depleted. What she wanted to do was sleep. But that wasn’t what she needed to do. 

 

She needed to find Peter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. Please comment, because at this point I'm again not sure quite where this story is going to end up, so please leave some thoughts/reviews. Hope you liked it!!! Lots of love!<3


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, I wanted to do some prompt fills, so this is for NatashasHair, Lovin_me_some_whump, justanotheraspiringauthor, and DjDangerLove. 
> 
> Sorry thats a whole lot, but hope it fulfills!

Wanda’s POV

Between her and Bruce, it hadn’t taken long to figure out what was going on. Wanda remained telepathically linked to Peter, though when the medication dosage was high enough to knock him out regularly, there was somewhat of a void. 

So Wanda stayed in Peter’s room, and alerted the doctors if he was becoming aware and feeling pain again. 

After a week of sitting with next to the bed, waiting for something, anything to happen, the doctors began to back off the pain medication. 

It left Peter physically exactly the same, but mentally in a state of alarm. 

Truly, the whole predicament was incredibly strange. When Wanda tried to telepathically speak to Peter, she couldn’t. It was as if he was blocking her out. But she could still hear him, and knew he was receptive to the goings on around him. 

As he began to notice things again, she could feel his frustration at Tony. Not with the man himself, but the fact that the engineer wasn’t taking care of himself. 

“Tony,” Wanda started cautiously, “He doesn’t like this.”

Tony scoffed. 

“He’s in a coma and he lost part of his leg. I’m not thinking he’s a fan.”

“No,” she said, “He doesn’t like that you won’t sleep or eat. It makes him feel guilty.”

Tony froze up. 

“Don’t think that,” he muttered. “I’m fine.”

“Come on Tony. Pepper can come sit with him, and I’ll call for you if anything changes. Just go get some food and a nap. Plus, you can hardly work on his prosthetic if you’re dead on your feet.”

Tony nodded, knowing that she was right. 

He walked out of the room, and a few minutes later Pepper walked in, holding a book. 

Wanda was glad when Pepper opened it and began to read. 

It was ‘The Giver’ by Lois Lowry. Wanda had never read it before, and neither had Peter. As the red-headed woman read, Wanda sighed happily, feeling calm flow from Peter’s mind. 

He had never really been read to before, not in his memory at least. He was too young when his parents died to remember reading board books before bed with his mother, and May was always so busy, Peter didn’t want to bother her by asking her to read to him before bed. 

But it felt so, so good. He was calmer than he’d ever been, and Wanda noticed. 

She told Pepper and Tony as well, and they established a plan. Every day after lunch Pepper would come and read, and Tony would take a nap. 

Wanda didn’t tell them that it was partly for her as well. She loved the story of Jonah and Gabriel, relating to the feeling of being in a memory, feeling even the pain of it all being fresh. She so looked forward to feeling the soft and gentle voice spinning the story together as she closed her eyes and reveled in Peter’s and her own happiness. 

 

But it wasn’t always so happy. One day, it really occurred to Peter that he’d lost a leg. Wanda felt the rising panic, and immediately called for the team. 

Tony sat upright in his chair and looked over at Wanda, who had tears running down her face.

Bruce was the first to arrive in the cool, dark room. He looked at Wanda with the question written all over his face. 

She looked down. 

“He knows.” she whispered. 

Just then, they heard the team coming down the hallway. Bruce stepped out, and turned them back, except for Bucky, saying something about how the needed to keep out as many stimuli as possible so his brain could recover. 

Wanda kept crying as Peter continued to panic, questions running through his frantic mind. 

Bucky came in with a relatively cool look on his face. He pulled a chair up next to the bed across from Tony and sat down. 

“Hey Pete. I know you don’t know me that well. Except from that fight in Germany. You did really well, know that? I was impressed. You’re stronger than I ever could be. I remember you thought my metal arm was cool. I mean, anyways, uh… You know when I got it, I remember thinking my life was over. Not like I had such a great life to begin with at the time, but… yeah. Sorry, um, I’m not so good at this. Talking, and I don’t really know if you can, like, hear me or anything.”

“It’s okay,” Wanda interjected, “He’s interested. He’s in pain, and wants relief. Just keep talking.”

Bucky nodded, and cleared his throat. 

“So, I learned to live with it. And it’s not all that bad. I mean Hydra made my arm and it’s virtually indestructible. You’ve got some of the smartest people in the world on your side. But I know that wouldn’t really console me, so I won’t try to pull that on you. It’s gonna suck, I won’t lie. I’ll help you. You’ve still got a life, and a family. Wake up soon, and we can start getting you fixed up. Peter, you _will_ be Spider-Man again.”

 

Tony’s POV

Tony was so, so tired. And yes, he had to admit he wasn’t taking the best care of himself. He was tired and hungry and just overall depleted. 

He wandered into the kitchen, and began to make a sandwich. As he fumbled with the bread drawer, Steve came through the door. 

“Let me,” he said, guiding Tony to a bar stool. 

“I can make myself a sandwich,” he muttered. 

“I know you can,” Steve laughed, “But I can help.”

“Why do you want to help me?” Tony asked with a frown. 

Steve exhaled as he slid a plate across the countertop. 

“Tony none of this should’ve happened. And we shouldn’t have been fighting in the first place.”

Tony scoffed. “Useless word,” he said through a mouthful of ham and cheese. 

“You’re half dead, man. We can talk about this later after you get some sleep.”

The two men sat in silence as Tony stuffed the rest of his sandwich in his face, and then left without another word. 

He collapsed onto his bed, and was asleep within seconds. 

 

_“Mr. Stark?”_

_“Mr.Stark?”_

_“Where are you?”_

_“Am I gonna die?”_

 

Peter’s young face swam wildly in Tony’s mind. Tears mingled with dirt and blood as he lay on the ground. 

And Tony was stuck. No matter how hard he pushed, he remained glued to his spot, watching Peter call out for him.

 

He woke up in a cold sweat with tears running down his face. 

This was going to be way harder than he thought. 

 

Natasha’s POV

Natasha Romanova did not consider herself above any case. But this one seemed too easy. Sloppy trails left behind, a base that just looked too creepy for the ‘hidden-in-plain-sight’ vibe, and a clear lead. 

She brushed her short blond locks away from her face as her heels clicked along the New York sidewalks. 

She preferred walking to driving. It gave her time to clear her head. And she needed it. 

Peter was truly a good kid, and he didn’t deserve any of this. And the worst of it was that his captor truly was a mutant. No ordinary human was that strong. 

And as the Avengers, weren’t they meant to handle those issues? The ones that were to big for the authorities. 

But they failed. They didn’t see the problem, and Peter got hurt because of it. 

Well, Natasha would make sure no one else ever did. 

As she continued down the road, she heard him. 

“Aw man! Not my middle finger! Now I can’t use it for like three whole hours!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long!
> 
> Hope you guys liked it though!
> 
> So if you haven't read 'The Giver' you all totally should, because it's really really incredible. 
> 
> Do me a favor, and follow write_the_vision_hbk22 on instagram! I post about fanfics and my poetry!
> 
> Comments make my day, so please let me know what your thoughts are<3


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You guessed it...

Tony’s POV

 

“ _Deadpool?!_

The team looked aghast at the sight of Natasha and the black and red clad mercenary standing in the kitchen. 

“I’ve read about him,” Steve said, “Can’t you regrow limbs and regenerate tissue and stuff?”

Wade rolled his eyes. 

“I’d flip you off if I could, but I’m still waiting for my finger to regrow.”

“Okay, why is he here?” Tony asked. 

He really just wanted to get back to Peter. He’d just woken up from his nap, and was ready to relieve Pepper. 

While he’d napped, he’d come up with a great idea for a prosthetic, and wanted to talk to Wanda to see what Peter might think about it. (Wow, this whole thing is really complicated)

“Yeah, why am I here? Scary Lady just said you’d pay me for information,” Wade said, pointing over at Nat. 

Natasha rolled her eyes. 

“Listen. It’s Wade Wilson, right? No, don’t answer that, I already know it’s true. I want to know where you got your abilities.”

Wade raised an eyebrow. “Why would you want to know about Francis?”

Tony clenched his fists. 

“I don’t have the time for this. F.R.I.D.A.Y., pull up video from Peter’s room.”

On the kitchen T.V., an image of Peter appeared. He still looked awful, hooked up to tubes, bruises not yet faded, limbs casted, and the obvious lack of a lower left leg. 

Wade pulled of his mask and stared at the screen, clearly a little shaken. 

“This,” Nat hissed, “is what can happen when enhanced individuals go unchecked. Peter here is only 15. He was tortured; bones broken, electric shock, concussions, and now he’s in a coma. He flatlined, know that? He died. So now you are going to tell us where to find the person responsible for creating those who intend to do harm to others on a greater scale than would otherwise be possible.”

Wade stepped back. 

“Listen, I hate Francis. I can only tell you where he used to work. But after I tried to kill him, I would imagine he moved.”

“Any information you have would be immensely helpful,” Sam quipped. 

“Sure,” Wade shrugged. “But I get to help you take him down.”

With that, everyone sat down to strategize, as Tony took off for the med-bay. 

When he arrived, he felt his heart melt a little at the sight of Pepper reading to Wanda and Peter. Wanda looked completely relaxed, curled up on the couch with her eyes closed, sighing contentedly. 

He pushed open the door, and Pepper put down her book. 

Wanda sat up slowly and rubbed her eyes. 

“You’re coming back tomorrow, right?” she asked Pepper. 

“Of course,” the woman laughed, “We need to learn more about Rosemary, don’t we?”

Wanda smiled, and Tony sat down in the chair next to Peter’s bed. 

“Hey buddy.”

“He’s glad you’ve slept,” Wanda whispered, eyes glowing red. 

“Although he says you still need a shower.”

Tony chuckled. 

“Do I now?”

Tony ran a hand through his hair and grimaced. 

“Yeah okay Pete, I see what you mean.”

“Anyways, I was thinking about your leg. I have a cool idea. We could kind of make it like Bucky’s arm, where you can still control it with your mind, using neurotransmitters and all that jazz. I think it could work really well. You can help pick out colors and stuff when you wake up.”

Tony rambled on for a little while longer, until finally he fell asleep, with his hand on Peter’s.

 

Peter’s POV

 

Peter was so exhausted. And he was scared. His life was going to be so, so different now. He didn’t know what to do. 

He tried to put all those thoughts out of his mind, and instead focused on whatever was going on around him, like Pepper reading, or Tony talking. 

He was immensely glad Tony had come to his senses and was putting forth an effort to care for himself. 

He hated the thought he was being a burden to the team. They didn’t ask for him. 

Just like May and Ben didn’t ask for him. 

See where that got Ben?

At least he still had May. At least she would still be there when he woke up. 

Peter felt a tingle in the back of his mind. 

“Wanda?” he thought?

“Hey Peter!”

“What’s up?”

Wanda hesitated.

“Peter I heard what you were saying. You don’t honestly think that’s true, do you?”

“I… uh... “

“The team loves you Peter. You may not see, but especially in light of the Accords, you hold the team together. And even those who don’t know you that well, they still love you. You mean so much to all of us.”

Peter’s mind was busy. 

That was the strange thing about telepathy. 

When normally he’d be quiet, not speaking, his mind was erupting in thoughts trying to figure out what he wanted to say.

“They don’t love me”

“Do they?”

“Why would anyone?”

“If they love me, am I just more of a burden?”

“I must be.”

“But May used to tell me love is never a burden”

“She’s always so scared for me.”

“I don’t want to scare people…”

“Am I scaring Tony?”

“Does he really love me?”

Peter was suddenly very aware of Tony’s hand on his own. 

He focused all his energy, desperately wanting people to stop being scared for him, and moved his hand. 

 

 

_”Peter?!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! He's waking up!
> 
> So here's the thing, I could end it here, and leave it kinda dramatic. 
> 
> Or I could keep going, and have lots more angsty PTSD kinda stuff. 
> 
> Let me know! I love reviews, positive or negative!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah! Sorry this took me so long to get out, but I finally did it. Shoutout to my best friend who always encourages me to keep writing! Love you<3
> 
> Enjoy the story!

**Tony’s POV**

He swear he felt it. Peter’s hand moved. He swore it did. 

“Bruce!” he shouted. “Bruce come quick!”

“Shhh,” Wanda whispered. “You’re too loud. It’s hurting him!”

Tony glanced over at Peter’s still form. 

“Sorry,” he muttered, “But are you awake?”

Wanda smiled. 

“He’s trying. His mind is ready, but his body really isn’t.”

The door flew open, and a breathless Bruce barrelled in. 

“What happened?” he panted. 

“He moved his fingers!” Tony cried. 

Bruce looked estatic. 

“Did he really? Tony hold his hand again!”

Tony grasped Peter’s small hand tightly, and Wanda winced. 

“Sorry!” Tony apologized, both to Peter and Wanda. 

“Okay,” Bruce started, “Peter? I want you to squeeze Tony’s hand once for ‘yes’ and twice for ‘no’. Do you understand me?”

Tony smiled as Peter’s fingers curled up over his own. 

“He does.”

Bruce nodded his head and scribbled some notes on a piece of paper. 

“Do you remember what happened?” 

Tony frowned as Peter grasped his hand twice. 

The former shook his head softly. 

“That’s okay,” Bruce said, “That’s normal. Peter, you’re just resting for a while. But you’re safe, and you’ll be okay.”

“Yeah,” Wanda said with a grimace, “He’s not buying that at all.”

Bruce frowned slightly, but his eyes still sparkled at the boy’s spunk. 

“Okay Peter, you got a little hurt, but now, I promise you, you’re going to be fine. You’re making great progress, and I have no doubt that you’ll be good as new in no time.”

Wanda looked at Bruce with a sad expression on her face. 

She laughed a little, and then said, “He says he wants to watch Star Wars. Not sure why that’s at all relevant, but that’s what he wants.”

Tony smiled. He knew why. 

 

**Bucky’s POV**

Bucky was not in a good place. 

He was struggling because he was seeing himself in Peter. 

Tony had even asked to see the metal arm so he could perfect the mechanisms in Peter’s new prosthetic. 

One particularly awful night, he’d awoken in a cold sweat, seeing Peter in a Hydra base. 

The augmented image kept him from falling asleep, so he wandered into Peter’s room. 

It hadn’t been touched since Peter was taken, and it was a perfect mess. Socks were laying haphazardly across the bed. Books were strewn over the desk. 

Bucky opened the white laptop in the desk, curious as he’d ever been. 

There was a You-Tube video pulled up. It was labeled, “Spider-Man saves girl from bullies.”

He hit play, and watched as Peter jumped through monkey bars and landed next to a little girl in a purple t-shirt. 

Peter scared the bullies away simply by being there, and he turned to kneel next to the girl. 

“Hey, what’s your name?” he asked. 

She smiled brightly at him. 

“Sofi!” she exclaimed. 

“But I could handle them.”

He laughed. 

“I’m sure you could, Sofi. If you ever need anything, just give me a shout, okay?”

“Okeydokey!” Sofi cried. 

The video cut out, and Bucky closed the computer and sat on Peter’s bed. 

He’d get the kid through this. He had to. 

**Peter’s POV**

It felt so nice to be connected again. Even if he was immensely frustrated with his inability to function. 

But Bruce said he was making progress, and he trusted Bruce. He just hoped he’d be able to get back on his feet soon. He had no clue where May was, how Ned was doing, if MJ ever finished the Spider-Man drawing she was working on. 

He just wanted to be better. 

After answering Bruce’s questions, few though they were, he fell asleep. When he awoke, Pepper was sitting in the room, reading ‘Gathering Blue,’ the next book by Lois Lowry. 

Again he could relate to the main character in a way that made him feel empowered and peaceful. In all honesty, he wished Kira and Jonas were real people. 

Unfortunately, they were only fictional. And Peter was stuck in reality- which truly wasn’t going so well for him at the moment. At least he trusted that it’d all work out for his fictional friends in the end. 

They certainly deserved a happy ending. 

And Peter wanted that too. 

 

~ _Two Weeks Later_ ~

“Oh, Pete. I’m sorry. I know this hurts,” Tony crooned as he rubbed Peter’s arm comfortingly. 

Finally, Peter was off the ventilator, and the feeding tubes. All he was hooked up to now was an I.V. for pain medication, and a few monitors. 

Now that he was being extubated, he’d finally be able to talk. 

The concept of being able to communicate without blinking and squeezing hands sounded absolutely amazing. 

And Bruce had said earlier that once he was independent from all the machines, he could really start physical therapy. Meaning that he could move without needing another person to stretch his limbs and move _for_ him. 

He moaned in pain as the tube came out, and then winced at the sound of his voice. It was hoarse and cracked, nothing like the smooth and quirky sound Tony so loved. 

Bruce cleaned Peter up, and then left the room to check on some things, while Tony brushed Peter’s hair away from his face. 

“What’s up buddy?” Tony asked, his own voice laced with encouragement. 

Peter coughed as he struggled to form words. 

“M’r ‘Tark? *cough* W’n ‘ear m’ St’r Wars th’ry *cough* now?”

Tony laughed as a tear slid down his cheek. 

“Yeah Peter,” he smiled, “I really, really do.”

Peter smiled softly, and closed his eyes. 

“M’kay,” he said, closing his eyes. 

A minute later, he began snoring quietly. 

Tony yawned and leaned back in his chair. He closed his eyes, and listened to Peter snore with a smile on his face. And so Tony fell asleep as well, content with the thought that everything was going to be okay. 

 

 

 

But that’s never really the case, is it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Leave a comment, please! Lots of Love!<3


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry bout this one...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a very angsty one...

**Bruce’s POV**

“Alright Peter, have you been working on those vocal exercises I taught you?” Bruce was asking. 

Peter looked away. 

“ _Peter,_ ” Bruce said, his voice laced with warning. 

“I don’t like ‘em,” Peter mumbled. 

Bruce sat down on the bed next to him. 

“I know it scares you, but it’s okay. No one here is going to hurt you.”

Peter started to cry. 

“E-e’ry time I s’d some’in he hurt me.”

“Oh, Pete,” Bruce sighed. 

“I’m going to let you rest for a little, okay? I think it’s time for Pepper to come and read anyways.”

Peter nodded through the tears. 

Bruce left the room, brushing shoulders with Wanda, who liked to listen to Pepper read as well. 

Bruce headed for the lab, where sure enough, Tony was bent over a sheet of paper. Bruce recognized it as the prints for Peter’s prosthetic. 

That was how Tony was coping. When he wasn’t sitting at Peter’s side, he was throwing all his energy into a new leg for the teen. So far, it was decked out with a tracker, a panic button, and a flotation device. 

Tony looked up as Bruce sat on a stool next to him. 

“What’s up?” Tony asked. 

“We have a real problem,” Bruce said. 

Tony spun around. 

“Is Peter okay?” 

Bruce hesitated. 

“He won’t do his vocal therapy. He’s too scared.”

“Well why does he need to? If it makes him feel unsafe, why don’t we just let it go?” Tony said, sounding confused. 

“Tony,” Bruce groaned, “He was electrocuted. The brain stimuli is good to make sure that he’s not going to end up with permanent damage. I can’t tell if he’s just too afraid to speak or if he is physically unable to speak clearly.”

“Okay, when Pepper is done reading I can go talk to him,” Tony said. 

There was a pause as Bruce nodded slowly. 

“Should I ask Sam to talk to Peter?” Tony asked. 

Bruce brightened up immediately. “That’s a really good idea. I know Peter doesn’t know Sam that well, but I think if you bring him in it could really help.”

Tony nodded and stood up to go and find Sam, leaving Bruce in the lab. 

Seeing Tony’s day-bed in the corner, Bruce sighed in relief. He had barely gotten three hours of sleep since they’d found Peter, and he curled up on the bed, letting his eyes close. 

He was asleep within minutes. 

 

**Peter’s POV**

Reading time was nice today. Pepper must’ve seen that he was stressed, so she even read an extra chapter. 

Tony walked in with Sam as Pepper finished. The two men smiled at the sight. Peter was smiling with his eyes closed, and Wanda was lying on the couch, her eyes glued expectantly to Pepper as she spun the story together. 

When the two girls left, Sam and Tony sat next to Peter. 

“Hey,” Tony said softly. 

“Hey,” Peter replied, keeping his eyes down. 

“Listen,” Tony said, looking over at Sam, “I was thinking, if you’re okay, Sam is going to talk to you. Just to clear your head, otherwise, stuff may get in the way of what Bruce is trying to monitor.”

Peter looked up suddenly. 

“May,” he said. 

“Tony what’re we gonna tell May? She’s gonna be so worried! And my leg! It’s not gonna heal, she’s gonna know something happened!”

Tony took a deep breath, and Sam bit his lip. 

“Where is she?” Peter asked, “Can I call her?”

Sam nodded at Tony. 

“It’s time,” the man whispered. 

“Time for what?” Peter demanded. 

“Peter,” Tony started, “When we first started looking for you, we heard reports of a blast in a Queens apartment building. Alien tech. And... “

 

 _No._

Peter’s eyes filled with tears. 

He shook his head back and forth as Tony continued. 

“Peter, I’m so sorry. May’s gone.”

Peter gasped. 

“Well, go find her then!” he cried. 

Sam reached a hand forward and rested it on Peter’s knee, only to have Peter knock it away. 

“Stay back!” Peter cried, “I kill everyone who gets too close!”

“No,” Tony gasped, “Peter this isn’t your fault.”

Peter let out a loud, choked sob. 

“That’s what my parents told me when my fish died! That’s what Ben told me when my parents died! That’s what May told me when Ben died! _May…_ ”

Tony glanced again at Tony. 

Suddenly, Peter started shaking with sobs. 

His voice cut through the air in a horrid scream. 

“MAY!”

“May come back!”

“I want to go home!”

“Please don’t be gone!”

“Please!”

His body shook harder, and Sam rushed across the room. 

“He’ll hurt himself if he keeps up like this,” he said, as he plunged a sedative into Peter’s I.V. port. 

Tony watched helplessly as his cries became weaker. 

“Tony! Stay back! Stay away from me! I don’t want to hurt you. I...I want May… I… please.”

 

**Natasha’s POV**

Natasha was sick of men. 

As she drove the quinjet, Wade and Clint sat in the back, making crude jokes and just being plain idiots. 

It hadn’t taken them long to track down Ajax’s operation. He had left sloppy trails and didn’t bother to take care of witnesses. 

They had a smaller team on the project than usual. 

Wade, obviously, this particular issue was something he felt partially responsible for because he had failed to actually follow through on making sure Francis’ lab was destroyed. 

It was just too hard for Clint to help Peter. He saw his own children on that hospital bed. It was like living out his worst nightmare. So instead, he worked to slay his demons while he was awake. He would end Ajax, and avenge Peter. 

Natasha needed distance from Peter. The kid had the power to break through even her thick emotional walls. She tried not to get thrown off, but he broke her. She felt her heart break every time she saw his face, bruised and cut. And to be honest, it scared her. She wasn’t familiar with that depth of empathy, and it _scared_ her. 

 

Soon, they arrived at what looked like a normal hospital. Nat, being the spy that she was, led the two men down a service elevator. It led to a hallway that split. One side had a sign pointing down to another door, with more signage saying to send deliveries that way. 

They went the other way, and followed a hallway until they found an ominous door on the right side of the hallway. 

Clint mumbled about how disgustingly cliche it was, but Nat hushed him. 

She could hear the conversation on the other side of the door. 

“Listen to me, we are going to be fine,” one voice hissed

“But he totally blew out cover! If the Avengers find out, we’re toast.”

The other voice was lower, but tinted with fear. 

“Don’t worry, I have it covered.”

“Francis!”

“ _What_ did I say about calling me that?”

“That you wouldn’t pay me for a week, I remember.”

“Okay, but regardless, if anyone comes here, I’ve got it completely covered.”

Clint looked over at Wade, who was not paying attention whatsoever, so he instead turned his gaze to Nat, who was pursing her lips in concentration.

All of a sudden, her eyes grew wide. 

“What?” Clint whispered. 

Suddenly, they weren’t alone. Men pointing guns at them dropped from the ceiling. 

They were way outnumbered, and Nat knew it. 

The door they’d been listening through flew open, and Francis walked out, gripping a gun in his own hand.

“One wrong move, and we all shoot,” he purred. “Now, hands where I can see them.”

Clint, who’d had his hands in his pockets, swiftly pressed a red button sewn into his suit before putting his hands in the air. 

Help may be coming, but they certainly weren’t in the clear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! 
> 
> Did you catch my 100 reference in there?
> 
> Please, please, please leave me some comments and reviews. What do you want to see more of, is there another element, another character, etc.? Honestly, I smile so much when I see what you write, it's so kind, and I don't deserve it. Love you all!
> 
> I've got a lot going on in my personal life rn, so if if I take longer to get stuff up, that's why, but I'm really trying to get everything managed. So, yeah. Just please give a little grace with the timeliness of the chapters.
> 
> Lots of Love!<3


	16. The Final Chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter of this work. Please read updated tags!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof. I don't even know where to start here. First of all, I am very, very sorry. It has been way too long since I updated, and I'm sorry, there is no excuse for that. However, I think I owe a brief explanation. Without all the details, I hit kind of a rough spot that I haven't been talking about with anyone too much. In all honestly, I was just too anxious and self-conscious to keep writing. But, this is an attempt to make it better, and to kickstart my stories again. So yeah, I hope you enjoy!

**Tony’s POV**

When Tony saw the distress signal from Clint, he was furious. That idiot never thought through anything. Not with the accords, and not now. 

Tony had been sitting next to Peter, who was sedated to keep him calm. He got up to make sure Steve had gotten the signal too, and from there, he sent out the team to go get Clint. 

Tony stayed back, and returned to Peter’s bedside, as he slept peacefully, though he still had tear tracks staining his cheeks. Tony stretched back on his chair and looked up at the ceiling, with quiet tears spilling down his face until he drifted off…

 

He awoke to the sound of more crying (God, he hated crying). Peter was propped up on the bed, staring vacantly ahead of him with his hands clenched around the sheets. 

“Hey,” Tony whispered, “Pete?”

Peter slowly looked over at Tony, without any energy or life in his eyes. 

“I know it doesn’t feel like it, but it’s all gonna be okay, I promise.”

“It will not be okay. I can’t be here, I can’t do this. I’m just not good enough. Tony I’m not okay. I’m not a hero. I need more than this, and there’s no more I deserve.”

The teenager grimaced, fresh tears welling up in his eyes. 

“I have no family,” he murmured, “They’re gone. Everyone’s gone, and I’m all alone now.”

“No.”

Tony spoke with such severity that Peter flinched, his newly uncasted left arm instinctively reaching up to hug himself. 

The engineer took a breath before speaking again. 

“Peter, you are not alone, and you have a family. You have a crazy, loud, stupid family. And I know they may not have known you your whole life. They will never fill the void you are feeling right now, but we are a family. We are and nothing is ever gonna change that. You can’t get rid of us. We love you too much to let you run. And Peter, screw what people deserve. Some get more than what they deserve, and some get so, so much less. But I’m telling you that you deserve the world. You deserve love and respect and everything.”

Peter cried harder. “I’m not good enough. I don’t have anywhere to live and I don’t deserve to have a family. I’m weak and I’m dangerous. Everyone I get close to gets hurt.”

“No, Peter,” Tony said as he shook his head, “You are so, so good. The best I know. You’re home can be here. The team, your family, would love that. And damn it Parker, you are not weak. You are so incredibly strong that it amazes me. You are amazing and I count myself lucky to know you. I know I’m not the best at this heart to heart stuff, but I wish you could see. I wish you could see how much everyone loves you Peter. If it takes a lifetime I will try to make you that. I will make you see it, Pete.”

 

**...Two Weeks Later…**

 

After the team all returned to the tower, and Francis’ operation was taken down, everyone focused their energy on helping Peter recover, both physically and mentally. 

Bruce saw Peter every day, and slowly, casts came off, tubes came out, and soon Peter was beginning to walk again. Once his healing factor began to catch up, he progressed quickly.

Sam started trying to help Peter wade through his own mind. Peter still struggled with feeling wanted in the tower, and like he was good enough, and Sam confided in Steve that he thought Peter had an anxiety disorder that was not helping his case. But Peter did what Sam told him, and with the help of support from the rest of the team it was getting better. 

Wanda always knew Peter’s next move, and was able to help him. She also was the first one there when Peter began panicking, and she could always calm him down. 

Pepper still read to Peter every day, book after book, tricking him into resting from his P.T, which was sorely needed. Peter even began to think of Pepper as something of a mother figure. Nowhere close to where May had been, but still, she was there.

Rhodey sat and talked to Peter for hours on end. Not about any specific thing, but uist enough to remind Peter that he was okay. He was alive. He was welcome. 

Vision was patient. He came to Peter whenever he called, and answered questions, told stories, all sorts of things. Whatever Peter wanted, Vision tried to provide. He was constant, and Peter needed something constant in his life. 

Steve helped Peter day in and day out with P.T. He walked next to Peter as he took small steps, helped him regain strength, and always caught him when he fell. 

Natasha began teaching Peter new techniques for fighting, even though he couldn’t practice anything yet. One morning, Peter found a stuffed spider on the foot of his bed. It didn’t say who it was from, but Peter knew. 

Clint played video games with Peter every day. After Clint got back from stopping Francis, Peter was almost protective of him. The teen was grateful he’d gone after the threat, and wanted to repay them all. 

Bucky was lifesaving. The two bonded easily as Bucky helped Peter understand how to live with the unnatural limb he’d been given. The two were often inseparable, the older man basically helicopter parenting Peter. 

Tony knew what it was like to spiral. He knew the pain and the hopelessness and the fear. So he made it his personal mission to keep Peter as far away from that as possible. He wanted to remind Peter that he had worth and impact bigger than he could fathom. He showed love and care the team didn’t think he was capable of, even when draped in heavy sarcasm. Tony never thought he’d be a parent. He really didn’t. But when he looked at his bright eyed boy, his kid, he knew somehow that there was no greater love than what he felt for Peter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and let me know what you think of this last chapter. Thank you to everyone who stuck with this, even after this very long (sorry guys) break. But yeah. Love y'all<3

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first venture into the MCU for fanfic, so please leave comments! Those keep me writing! Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
